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+Project Gutenberg's An Onlooker in France 1917-1919, by William Orpen
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: An Onlooker in France 1917-1919
+
+Author: William Orpen
+
+Release Date: December 29, 2006 [EBook #20215]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ONLOOKER IN FRANCE 1917-1919 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Geetu Melwani, Christine P. Travers, Chuck
+Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
+generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian
+Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note:--The original page references for the list of
+illustrations was 'facing page' therefore they have been changed in this
+text to match the page numbers in this file.]
+
+
+
+ AN ONLOOKER IN FRANCE
+
+
+[Illustration: I. _Field-Marshal Earl Haig of
+Bemersyde, O.M., K.T., etc._]
+
+
+
+
+ AN ONLOOKER IN
+ FRANCE
+
+ 1917-1919
+
+
+
+
+ BY
+ SIR WILLIAM ORPEN, K.B.E., R.A.
+
+
+
+
+ LONDON
+ WILLIAMS AND NORGATE
+ 1921
+
+
+
+
+ Pictures and Text, Copyright 1921
+ by
+ Sir William Orpen, K.B.E., R.A.
+
+
+ Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
+ Paris Garden, Stamford St., S.E. 1, and Bungay, Suffolk.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE (p. v)
+
+
+This book must not be considered as a serious work on life in France
+behind the lines, it is merely an attempt to record some certain
+little incidents that occurred in my own life there.
+
+The only thought I wish to convey is my sincere thanks for the
+wonderful opportunity that was given me to look on and see the
+fighting man, and to learn to revere and worship him--that is the only
+serious thing. I wish to express my worship and reverence to that
+gallant company, and to convey to those who are left my most sincere
+thanks for all their marvellous kindness to me, a mere looker on.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ Chap. Page
+
+ PREFACE v
+
+ I. TO FRANCE (APRIL 1917) 11
+
+ II. THE SOMME (APRIL 1917) 16
+
+ III. AT BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS AND ST. POL (MAY-JUNE 1917) 25
+
+ IV. THE YPRES SALIENT (JUNE-JULY 1917) 31
+
+ V. THE SOMME IN SUMMER-TIME (AUGUST 1917) 36
+
+ VI. THE SOMME (SEPTEMBER 1917) 42
+
+ VII. WITH THE FLYING CORPS (OCTOBER 1917) 50
+
+ VIII. CASSEL AND IN HOSPITAL (NOVEMBER 1917) 55
+
+ IX. WINTER (1917-1918) 62
+
+ X. LONDON (MARCH-JUNE 1918) 67
+
+ XI. BACK IN FRANCE (JULY-SEPTEMBER 1918) 75
+
+ XII. AMIENS (OCTOBER 1918) 84
+
+ XIII. NEARING THE END (OCTOBER 1918) 90
+
+ XIV. THE PEACE CONFERENCE 98
+
+ XV. PARIS DURING THE PEACE CONFERENCE 111
+
+ XVI. THE SIGNING OF THE PEACE 116
+
+ INDEX 121
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Plate
+
+ I. Field-Marshal Earl Haig of
+ Bemersyde, O.M., K.T., etc. _Frontispiece_
+
+ II. The Bapaume Road. 12
+
+ III. Men Resting, La Boisselle. 15
+
+ IV. A Tank, Pozieres. 17
+
+ V. Warwickshires entering Peronne. 19
+
+ VI. No Man's Land. 21
+
+ VII. Three Weeks in France: Shell-shock. 24
+
+ VIII. Man in the Glare, Two Miles from the Hindenburg
+ Line. 27
+
+ IX. Air-Marshal Sir H. M. Trenchard, Bart., K.C.B., etc. 29
+
+ X. A Howitzer in Action. 30
+
+ XI. German 'Planes visiting Cassel. 33
+
+ XII. Soldiers and Peasants, Cassel. 35
+
+ XIII. German Prisoners 37
+
+ XIV. View from the old English Trenches, looking towards
+ La Boisselle. 39
+
+ XV. Adam and Eve at Peronne. 41
+
+ XVI. A Grave in a Trench. 43
+
+ XVII. The Deserter. 45
+
+ XVIII. The Great Mine, La Boisselle. 47
+
+ XIX. The Butte de Warlencourt 48
+
+ XX. Lieut. A. P. F. Rhys Davids, D.S.O., M.C., etc. 51
+
+ XXI. Lieut. R. T. C. Hoidge, M.C. 53
+
+ XXII. The Return of a Patrol. 54
+
+ XXIII. Changing Billets. 57
+
+ XXIV. The Receiving-room, 42nd Stationary Hospital. 58
+
+ XXV. A Death among the Wounded in the Snow. 61
+
+ XXVI. Some Members of the Allied Press Camp. 63
+
+ XXVII. Poilu and Tommy. 65
+
+ XXVIII. Major-General The Right Hon. J. E. B. Seely, C.B.,
+ etc. 66
+
+ XXIX. Bombing: Night. 66
+
+ XXX. Major J. B. McCudden, V.C., D.S.O., etc. 71
+
+ XXXI. The Refugee. 73
+
+ XXXII. Lieut.-Col. A. N. Lee, D.S.O., etc. 74
+
+ XXXIII. Marshal Foch, O.M. 77
+
+ XXXIV. A German 'Plane passing St. Denis. 79
+
+ XXXV. British and French A.P.M.'s, Amiens. 81
+
+ XXXVI. General Lord Rawlinson, Bart., G.C.B., etc. 83
+
+ XXXVII. Albert. 87
+
+ XXXVIII. The Mad Woman of Douai. 91
+
+ XXXIX. Field-Marshal Lord Plumer of Messines, G.C.B., etc. 93
+
+ XL. Armistice Night, Amiens. 95
+
+ XLI. The Official Entry of the Kaiser. 97
+
+ XLII. General Sir J. S. Cowans, G.C.B., etc. 99
+
+ XLIII. Field-Marshal Sir Henry H. Wilson, Bart., K.C.B.,
+ etc. 101
+
+ XLIV. The Right Hon. Louis Botha, P.C., LL.D. 103
+
+ XLV. The Right Hon. A. J. Balfour, O.M. 105
+
+ XLVI. President Woodrow Wilson. 107
+
+ XLVII. The Marquis Siongi. 109
+
+ XLVIII. A Polish Messenger. 110
+
+ XLIX. Lord Riddell. 113
+
+ L. The Right Hon. The Earl of Derby, E.G., etc. 117
+
+ LI. Signing the Peace Treaty. 119
+
+ LII. The End of a Hero and a Tank, Courcelette. _At the end_
+
+ LIII. General Birdwood returning to his Headquarters,
+ Grevillers. "
+
+ LIV. A Skeleton in a Trench. "
+
+ LV. Flight-Sergeant, R.F.C. "
+
+ LVI. N.C.O., Grenadier Guards. "
+
+ LVII. Stretcher-bearers. "
+
+ LVIII. Man Resting, near Arras. "
+
+ LIX. Going Home to be Married. "
+
+ LX. Household Brigade passing to the Ypres Salient.
+ Cassel. "
+
+ LXI. Ready to Start. "
+
+ LXII. A German Prisoner with the Iron Cross. "
+
+ LXIII. A Big Gun and its Guardian. "
+
+ LXIV. Good-bye-ee. "
+
+ LXV. The Chateau, Thiepval. "
+
+ LXVI. German Wire, Thiepval. "
+
+ LXVII. Thiepval. "
+
+ LXVIII. Highlander passing a Grave. "
+
+ LXIX. M. R. D. de Maratray. "
+
+ LXX. A Man, Thinking, on the Butte de Warlencourt. "
+
+ LXXI. Major-General Sir Henry Burstall, K.C.B., etc. "
+
+ LXXII. Major-General L. J. Lipsett, C.M.G., etc. "
+
+ LXXIII. A Village, Evening (Monchy). "
+
+ LXXIV. Christmas Night, Cassel. "
+
+ LXXV. Blown Up: Mad. "
+
+ LXXVI. A Support Trench. "
+
+ LXXVII. Major-General Sir H. J. Elles, K.C.M.G., etc. "
+
+ LXXVIII. Dead Germans in a Trench. "
+
+ LXXIX. A German Prisoner. "
+
+ LXXX. A Highlander Resting. "
+
+ LXXXI. Man with a Cigarette. "
+
+ LXXXII. Mr. Lloyd George, President Wilson, M. Clemenceau. "
+
+ LXXXIII. A Meeting of the Peace Conference. "
+
+ LXXXIV. Admiral of the Fleet Lord Wester Wemyss, G.C.B.,
+ etc. "
+
+ LXXXV. Colonel Edward M. House. "
+
+ LXXXVI. Mr. Robert Lansing. "
+
+ LXXXVII. The Emir Feisul. "
+
+LXXXVIII. M. Eleutherios Venezelos. "
+
+ LXXXIX. Admiral of the Fleet Sir David Beatty, Viscount
+ Borodale of Wexford, O.M., G.C.B., etc. "
+
+ XC. The Right Hon. W. F. Massey, P.C. "
+
+ XCI. General The Right Hon. J. C. Smuts, P.C., C.H. "
+
+ XCII. The Right Hon. G. N. Barnes, P.C. "
+
+ XCIII. The Right Hon. W. M. Hughes, P.C., K.C. "
+
+ XCIV. Brigadier-General A. Carton de Wiart, K.C., C.B.,
+ etc. "
+
+ XCV. M. Paul Hymans. "
+
+ XCVI. The Right Hon. Sir Robert Borden, G.C.M.G., etc. "
+
+
+
+
+AN ONLOOKER IN FRANCE (p. 011)
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+TO FRANCE (APRIL 1917)
+
+
+The boat was crowded. Khaki, everywhere khaki; lifebelts, rain and
+storm, everything soaked. Destroyers, churning through the waves,
+played strange games all round us. Some old-time Tommies, taking
+everything for granted, smoked and laughed and told funny stories.
+Others had the look of dumb animals in pain, going to what they knew
+only too well. The new hands for France asked many questions,
+pretended to laugh, pretended not to care, but for the most part were
+in terror of the unknown.
+
+It was strange to watch this huddled heap of humanity, study their
+faces and realise that perhaps half of them would meet a bloody end
+before a new moon was over, and wonder how they could do it, why they
+did it--Patriotism? Yes, and perhaps it was the chance of getting home
+again when the war was over. Think of the life they would have! The
+old song:--
+
+ "We don't want to lose you,
+ But we think you ought to go,
+ For your King and your Country
+ Both need you so.
+
+ "We shall-want you and miss you, (p. 012)
+ But with all our might and main
+ We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you,
+ When you come back again."
+
+Did they think of that, and all the joys it seemed to promise them? I
+pray not.
+
+What a change had come over the world for me since the day before! On
+that evening I had dined with friends who had laughed and talked small
+scandal about their friends. One, also, was rather upset because he
+had an appointment at 10.30 the next day--and there was I, a few hours
+later, being tossed about and soaked in company with men who knew they
+would run a big chance of never seeing England again, and were
+certainly going to suffer terrible hardships from cold, filth,
+discomfort and fatigue. There they stood, sat and lay--a mass of
+humanity which would be shortly bundled off the boat at Boulogne like
+so many animals, to wait in the rain, perhaps for hours, before being
+sent off again to whatever spot the unknown at G.H.Q. had allotted for
+them, to kill or to be killed; and there was I among them, going
+quietly to G.H.Q., everything arranged by the War Office, all in
+comfort. Yet my stomach was twitching about with nerves. What would I
+have been like had I been one of them?
+
+At Boulogne we lunched at the "Mony" (my companion, Aikman, had been
+to France before during the war and knew a few things). It was an
+excellent lunch, and, as we were not to report at G.H.Q. till the next
+day, we walked about looking at lorries and trains, all going off to
+the unknown, filled with humanity in khaki weighed down with their
+packs.
+
+[Illustration: II. _The Bapaume Road._]
+
+The following morning at breakfast at the "Folkestone Hotel" we sat (p. 013)
+at the next table to a Major with red tabs. He did not speak to us,
+but after breakfast he said: "Is your name Orpen?" "Yes, sir," said I.
+"Have you got your car ready?" "Yes, sir," said I. "Well, you had
+better drive back with me. Pack all your things in your car." "Yes,
+sir," said I. He explained to me that he had come to Boulogne to fetch
+General Smuts' luggage, otherwise he gave us no idea of who or what he
+was, and off we drove to the C.-in-C.'s house, where he went in with
+the General's luggage and left us in the car for about an hour. Then
+we went on to Hesdin, where he reported us to the Town Major, who said
+he had found billets for us. The Red Tab Major departed, as he said he
+was only just in time for his lunch, and told us to come to
+Rollencourt soon and report to the Colonel. The Town Major brought us
+round to our billet--the most filthy, disgusting house in all Hesdin,
+and the owner, an old woman, cursed us soundly, hating the idea of
+people being billeted with her. Anyway, there he left us and went off
+to his "Mess."
+
+This was all very depressing, so we talked together and went on a
+voyage of discovery and found an hotel; then we went back to the
+billet and said "good-bye" to Madame and moved our stuff there. But
+the hotel wasn't a dream--at least we had no chance of dreaming--bugs,
+lice and all sorts of little things were active all night. I had been
+told by the War Office to go slow and not try to hustle people, so we
+decided we would not go and report to the Colonel till the next day
+after lunch.
+
+Looking into the yard from my window in the afternoon, I saw two men I
+knew, one an artist from Chelsea, the other a Dublin man, who (p. 014)
+used to play lawn tennis. They were "Graves." My Dublin friend was
+"Adjutant, Graves," in fact he proudly told me that "Adjutant, Graves,
+B.E.F., France," would always find him. We dined with them that night
+at H.Q. Graves. They were very friendly, and said we could travel all
+over the back of the line by going from one "Graves" to another
+"Graves." All good chaps, I'm sure, and cheerful, but we did not do
+it.
+
+The next day after lunch we drove to Rollencourt, and found the Major
+in his office (a hut on the lawn in front of the chateau). He left,
+and returned to say the Colonel could not see us then. Would we come
+back at 5 p.m.? So off we went and sat by the side of the road for two
+hours. Then again to the Major's at 5 p.m., when he informed us the
+Colonel had gone out. Would we come back at 7 p.m.? (No tea offered.)
+This we did and waited until 7.50, when the Major informed us that the
+Colonel would not see us that evening, but we were to report the next
+morning at 9 a.m. (No dinner offered.) We left thinking very
+hard--things did not seem so simple after all. We reported at 9 a.m.
+and waited, and got a message at 11 a.m. that the Colonel would see
+us, and we were shown in to a wizened, sour-faced little man, his
+breast ablaze with strange colours. I explained to him that I did not
+like the billets at Hesdin, that Hesdin was too far away from anything
+near the front, and that I intended to go to Amiens at once. To my
+surprise he did not seem to object, and just as we were leaving, he
+said: "By the way, General Charteris wants you to go and see him this
+morning. You had better go at once." So that was it! If General
+Charteris had not sent that message I might not have been admitted to
+the presence of the Colonel for weeks. Off we went, full of hope, (p. 015)
+packed our bags and on to G.H.Q. proper, and got in to see the General
+at once--a bluff, jovial fellow who said: "You go anywhere you like,
+do anything you like, but don't ask me to get any Generals to sit to
+you; they're fed up with artists." I said: "That's the last thing I
+want." "Right," said he, "off you go." So we "offed" it to Amiens,
+arriving there about 7 p.m. on a cold, black, wet night. We went to
+see the Allied Press "Major," to find out some place to stop in, etc.
+Again we were rather depressed. The meeting was very chilly, the
+importance of the Major was great--the full weight and responsibility
+of the war seemed on him. "The Importance of being Ernest" wasn't in
+it with him. As I learnt afterwards, when he came in late for a meal
+all the other officers and Allied Press correspondents stood up. Many
+a time I got a black look for not doing so. However, he advised the
+worst and most expensive hotel in the town, and off we went (no dinner
+offered), rather depressed and sad.
+
+[Illustration: III. _Men resting. La Boisselle._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II (p. 016)
+
+THE SOMME (APRIL 1917)
+
+
+Amiens was the one big town that could be reached easily from the
+Somme front for dinner, so every night it was crowded with officers
+and men who had come back in cars, motor-bikes, lorries or any old
+thing in or on which they could get a lift. After dinner they would
+stand near the station and hail anything passing, till they found
+something that would drop them near their destination. As there was an
+endless stream of traffic going out over the Albert and Peronne Roads
+during that time (April 1917), it was easy.
+
+Amiens is a dirty old town with its seven canals. The cathedral,
+belfry and the theatre are, of course, wonderful, but there is little
+else except the dirt.
+
+I remember later lunching with John Sargent in Amiens, after which I
+asked him if he would like to see the front of the theatre. He said he
+would. When we were looking at it he said: "Yes, I suppose it is one
+of the most perfect things in Europe. I've had a photograph of it
+hanging over my bed for the last thirty years."
+
+But Amiens was a danger trap for the young officer from the line, also
+for the men. "Charlie's Bar" was always full of officers; mirth ran
+high, also the bills for drinks--and the drink the Tommies got in the
+little cafes was terrible stuff, and often doped.
+
+Then, when darkness came on, strange women--the riff-raff from (p. 017)
+Paris, the expelled from Rouen, in fact the badly diseased from all
+parts of France--hovered about in the blackness with their electric
+torches, and led the unknowing away to blackened side-streets and up
+dim stairways--to what? Anyway, for an hour or so they were out of the
+rain and mud, but afterwards? Often did I go with Freddie Fane, the
+A.P.M., to these dens of filth to drag fine men away from disease.
+
+[Illustration: IV. _A Tank. Pozieres._]
+
+The wise ones dined well--if not too well--at the "Godbert," with its
+Madeleine, or the "Cathedral," with its Marguerite, who was the queen
+of the British Army in Picardy, or, not so expensively, at the "Hotel
+de la Paix." Some months later the club started, a well-run place. I
+remember a Major who used to have his bath there once a week at 4 p.m.
+It was prepared for him, with a large whisky-and-soda by its side.
+What more comfort could one wish? Then there were dinners at the
+Allied Press, after which the Major would give a discourse amid heavy
+silence; then music. The favourite song at that time was:--
+
+ "Jackie Boy!
+ Master?
+ Singie well?
+ Very well.
+ Hey down,
+ Ho down,
+ Derry, Derry down,
+ All among the leaves so green, O.
+
+ "With my Hey down, down,
+ With my Ho down, down,
+ Hey down,
+ Ho down,
+ Derry, Derry down,
+ All among the leaves so green, O."
+
+Later, perhaps, if the night was fine, the Major would retire to the (p. 018)
+garden and play the flute. This was a serious moment--a great hush was
+felt, nobody dared to move; but he really didn't play badly. And old
+Hale would tell stories which no one could understand, and de Maratray
+would play ping-pong with extraordinary agility. It would all have
+been great fun if people had not been killing each other so near. Why,
+during that time, the Boche did not bomb Amiens, I cannot understand,
+it was thick every week-end with the British Army. One could hardly
+jamb oneself through the crowd in the Place Gambetta or up the Rue des
+Trois Cailloux. It was a struggling mass of khaki, bumping over the
+uneven cobblestones. What streets they were! I remember walking back
+from dinner one night with a Major, the agricultural expert of the
+Somme, and he said, "Don't you think the pavement is very hostile
+to-night?"
+
+I shall never forget my first sight of the Somme battlefields. It
+was snowing fast, but the ground was not covered, and there was this
+endless waste of mud, holes and water. Nothing but mud, water, crosses
+and broken Tanks; miles and miles of it, horrible and terrible, but
+with a noble dignity of its own, and, running through it, the great
+artery, the Albert-Bapaume Road, with its endless stream of men, guns,
+food lorries, mules and cars, all pressing along with apparently
+unceasing energy towards the front. Past all the little crosses where
+their comrades had fallen, nothing daunted, they pressed on towards
+the Hell that awaited them on the far side of Bapaume. The mud, the
+cold, the noise, the misery, and perhaps death;--on they went,
+plodding through the mud, those wonderful men, perhaps singing one of
+their cheer-making songs, such as:--
+
+ "I want to go home. (p. 019)
+ I want to go home.
+ I don't want to go to the trenches no more,
+ Where the Whizz-bangs and Johnsons do rattle and roar.
+ Take me right over the sea,
+ Where the Allemande can't bayonet me.
+ Oh, my!
+ I don't want to die,
+ I want to go home."
+
+[Illustration: V. _Warwickshires entering Peronne._]
+
+How did they do it? "I want to go home."--Does anyone realise what
+those words must have meant to them then? I believe I do now--a little
+bit. Even I, from my back, looking-on position, sometimes felt the
+terrible fear, the longing to get away. What must they have felt?
+"From battle, murder and sudden death, Good Lord, deliver us."
+
+On up the hill past the mines to Pozieres. An Army railway was then
+running through Pozieres, and the station was marked by a big wooden
+sign painted black and white, like you see at any country station in
+England, with POZIERES in large Roman letters, but that's all there
+was of Pozieres except a little red in the mud. I remember later, at
+the R.F.C. H.Q., Maurice Baring showed me a series of air-photographs
+of Pozieres as it was in 1914, with its peaceful little streets and
+rows of trees. What a contrast to the Pozieres as it was in 1917--MUD.
+Further on, the Butte stood out on the right, a heap of chalky mud,
+not a blade of grass round it then--nothing but mud, with a white
+cross on the top. On the left, the Crown Prince's dug-out and
+Gibraltar--I suppose these have gone now--and Le Sars and Grevillers,
+at that time General Birdwood's H.Q., where the church had been
+knocked into a fine shape. I tried to draw it, but was much put off by
+air fighting. It seemed a favourite spot for this.
+
+Bapaume must always have been a dismal place, like Albert, but (p. 020)
+Peronne must have been lovely, looking up from the water; and the
+main _Place_ must have been most imposing, but then it was very sad.
+The Boche had only left it about three weeks, and it had not been
+"cleaned up." But the real terribleness of the Somme was not in the
+towns or on the roads. One felt it as one wandered over the old
+battlefields of La Boisselle, Courcelette, Thiepval, Grandcourt,
+Miraumont, Beaumont-Hamel, Bazentin-le-Grand and Bazentin-le-Petit--the
+whole country practically untouched since the great day when the Boche
+was pushed back and it was left in peace once more.
+
+A hand lying on the duckboards; a Boche and a Highlander locked in a
+deadly embrace at the edge of Highwood; the "Cough-drop" with the
+stench coming from its watery bottom; the shell-holes with the shapes
+of bodies faintly showing through the putrid water--all these things
+made one think terribly of what human beings had been through, and
+were going through a bit further on, and would be going through for
+perhaps years more--who knew how many?
+
+I remember an officer saying to me, "Paint the Somme? I could do it
+from memory--just a flat horizon-line and mud-holes and water, with
+the stumps of a few battered trees," but one could not paint the
+smell.
+
+Early one morning in Amiens I got a message from Colonel John Buchan
+asking me to breakfast at the "Hotel du Rhin." While we were having
+breakfast, there was a great noise outside--an English voice was
+cursing someone else hard and telling him to get on and not make an
+ass of himself. Then a Flying Pilot was pushed in by an Observer. The
+Pilot's hand and arm were temporarily bound up, but blood was (p. 021)
+dropping through. The Observer had his face badly scratched and one of
+his legs was not quite right. They sat at a table, and the waiter
+brought them eggs and coffee, which they took with relish, but the
+Pilot was constantly drooping towards his left, and the drooping
+always continued, till he went crack on the floor. Then the Observer
+would curse him soundly and put him back in his chair, where he would
+eat again till the next fall. When they had finished, the waiter put a
+cigarette in each of their mouths and lit them. After a few minutes
+four men walked in with two stretchers, put the two breakfasters on
+the stretchers, and walked out with them--not a word was spoken.
+
+[Illustration: VI. _No Man's Land._]
+
+I found out afterwards that the Pilot had been hit in the wrist over
+the lines early that morning and missed the direction back to his
+aerodrome. Getting very weak, he landed, not very well, outside
+Amiens. He got his wrist bound up and had asked someone to telephone
+to the aerodrome to tell them that they were going to the "Rhin" for
+breakfast, and would they send for them there?
+
+After I had been in Amiens for about a fortnight, going out to the
+Somme battlefields early in the morning and coming back when it got
+dark, I received a message one evening from the Press "Major" to go to
+his chateau and ring up the "Colonel" at Rollencourt, which I did. The
+following was the conversation as far as I remember:--
+
+"Is that Orpen?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What do you mean by behaving this way?"
+
+"What way, please, sir?"
+
+"By not reporting to me."
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, but I do not understand." (p. 022)
+
+"Don't you know you must report to me, and show me
+what work you have been doing?"
+
+"I've practically done nothing yet, sir."
+
+"What have you been doing?"
+
+"Looking round, sir."
+
+"Are you aware you are being paid for your services?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Well, report to me and show me your work regularly.--Tell
+the Major to speak to me."
+
+The Major spoke, and I clearly heard him say my behaviour was
+damnable.
+
+This wonderful Colonel expected me to work all day, and apparently, in
+the evening, to take what I had done and show it to him--the distance
+by motor to him and back was something like 110 miles!
+
+I saw there was nothing for it, if I wanted to do my work, but to
+fight, so I decided to lay my views of people and things before those
+who were above the Colonel. This I did, and had comparative peace, but
+the seed of hostility was sown in the Colonel's Intelligence (F)
+Section, G.H.Q., as I think it was then called, and they made me
+suffer as much as was in their power.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"BEAUMONT-HAMEL" (p. 023)
+
+A MEMORY OF THE SOMME (SPRING 1917)
+
+ A fair spring morning--not a living soul is near,
+ Far, far away there is the faint grumble of the guns;
+ The battle has passed long since--
+ All is Peace.
+ At times there is the faint drone of aeroplanes as
+ They pass overhead, amber specks, high up in the blue;
+ Occasionally there is the movement of a rat in the
+ Old battered trench on which I sit, still in the
+ Confusion in which it was hurriedly left.
+ The sun is baking hot.
+ Strange odours come from the door of a dug-out
+ With its endless steps running down into blackness.
+ The land is white--dazzling.
+ The distance is all shimmering in heat.
+ A few little spring flowers have forced their way
+ Through the chalk.
+
+ He lies a few yards in front of the trench.
+ We are quite alone.
+ He makes me feel very awed, very small, very ashamed.
+ He has been there a long, long time--
+ Hundreds of eyes have seen him,
+ Hundreds of bodies have felt faint and sick
+ Because of him.
+ Then this place was Hell,
+ But now all is Peace.
+ And the sun has made him Holy and Pure--
+ He and his garments are bleached white and clean.
+ A daffodil is by his head, and his curly, golden (p. 024)
+ Hair is moving in the slight breeze.
+ He, the man who died in "No Man's Land," doing
+ Some great act of bravery for his comrades and
+ Country--
+ Here he lies, Pure and Holy, his face upward turned;
+ No earth between him and his Maker.
+ I have no right to be so near.
+
+[Illustration: VII. _Three Weeks in France. Shell shock._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III (p. 025)
+
+AT BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS AND ST. POL (MAY-JUNE 1917)
+
+
+About this time Freddie Fane (Major Fane, A.P.M.) sent me up to his
+old division, which was then fighting in front of Peronne. We arrived
+on a lovely afternoon at Divisional H.Q., which were in a pretty
+fir-wood, and consisted of beautifully camouflaged little huts. The
+guns were booming a few miles off, but everything was very peaceful
+there, and the dinner was excellent; but, just as we finished, the
+first shell shrieked overhead, and this I was told afterwards went on
+all night. Personally I had another large whisky-and-soda, and slept
+like a log.
+
+The next morning the General's A.D.C. motored me to a village about
+four kilometres off and handed me over to a 2nd Lieutenant, who walked
+me off to Brigade H.Q. These were behind an old railway embankment.
+Everyone was most kind, but I saw no quiet place to work. Everyone was
+rushing about, and the noise of the guns was terrific. The young 2nd
+Lieutenant advised me to take the men I wanted to draw and to go to
+the other side of the embankment. He said that there was no one there
+and that I could work in peace, and he was right. The noise from our
+batteries immediately gave me a bad headache, but apparently the Boche
+did not respond at all till the afternoon. Then they started, and the
+noise was HELL. Whenever there was a big bang I couldn't help giving (p. 026)
+a jump. The old Tommy I was drawing said, "It's all right, Guv'ner,
+you'll get used to it very soon." _I_ didn't think so, but to make
+conversation I said: "How long is it since you were home?"
+
+"Twenty-two months," said he.
+
+"Twenty-two months!" said I.
+
+"Yes," said he, "but one can't complain. That bloke over there hasn't
+been home for twenty-eight."
+
+What a life! Twenty-four hours of it was enough for me at a time.
+Before evening came my head felt as if it were filled with pebbles
+which were rattling about inside it. After lunch I sat with the
+Brigadier for a time and watched the men coming out from the trenches.
+Some sick; some with trench feet; some on stretchers; some walking;
+worn, sad and dirty--all stumbling along in the glare. The General
+spoke to each as they passed. I noticed that their faces had no change
+of expression. Their eyes were wide open, the pupils very small, and
+their mouths always sagged a bit. They seemed like men in a dream,
+hardly realising where they were or what they were doing. They showed
+no sign of pleasure at the idea of leaving Hell for a bit. It was as
+if they had gone through so much that nothing mattered. I was glad
+when I was back at Divisional H.Q. that evening. We had difficulty on
+one part of the road, as a "Sausage" had been brought down across it.
+
+Shortly afterwards I went to live at St. Pol, a dirty little town, but
+full of character. The hotel was filthy and the food impossible. We
+ate tinned tongue and bully-beef for the most part. Here I met
+Laboreur, a Frenchman, who was acting as interpreter--a very good
+artist. I think his etchings are as good as any line work the war has
+produced. A most amusing man. We had many happy dinners together at (p. 027)
+a little restaurant, where the old lady used to give us her bedroom as
+a private sitting-room dining-room. It was a bit stuffy, but the food
+was eatable.
+
+[Illustration: VIII. _Man in the Glare. Two miles from the Hindenburg Line._]
+
+One fine morning I got a message, "Would I ring up the P.S. of the
+C.-in-C. at once?" so I went to the Camp Commandant's office. No one
+was there except a corporal, so I asked him to get through to Sir
+Philip Sassoon, and said that I would wait outside till he did so.
+Presently he called me in, and Sassoon said I was to paint the Chief,
+and would I come to lunch the next day at Advanced H.Q., G.H.Q.? after
+which we talked and laughed a bit. When I hung up the receiver, I
+turned round, and there was a large A.S.C. Colonel glaring at me. I
+was so taken aback, as I had not heard him come in, that I didn't even
+salute him. He roared at me, "Are you an S.S.O.?" (Senior Supply
+Officer). "No," said I, "I'm a painter!" I never saw a man in such a
+fury in my life. I thought he was going to hit me. However, I made him
+understand in the end that I really was speaking the truth and in no
+way wanted to be cheeky.
+
+I had lunch at Advanced G.H.Q. the next day. The C.-in-C. was very
+kind, and brought me into his room afterwards, and asked me if
+everything was going all right with me. I told him I had a few
+troubles and was not very popular with certain people. He said: "If
+you get any more letters that annoy you, send them to me and I'll
+answer them." I went back to St. Pol with my head in the air. A great
+weight seemed to have been lifted off me.
+
+Sir Douglas was a strong man, a true Northerner, well inside
+himself--no pose. It seemed it would be impossible to upset him,
+impossible to make him show any strong feeling, and yet one felt he (p. 028)
+understood, knew all, and felt for all his men, and that he truly
+loved them; and I knew they loved him. Never once, all the time I was
+in France, did I hear a "Tommy" say one word against "'Aig." Whenever
+it became my honour to be allowed to visit him, I always left feeling
+happier--feeling more sure that the fighting men being killed were not
+dying for nothing. One felt he knew, and would never allow them to
+suffer and die except for final victory.
+
+When I started painting him he said, "Why waste your time painting me?
+Go and paint the men. They're the fellows who are saving the world,
+and they're getting killed every day."
+
+The second time I was there, just after lunch, the Chief had gone to
+his room, and several Generals, Colonel Fletcher, Sassoon and myself
+were standing in the hall, when suddenly a most violent explosion went
+off, all the windows came tumbling in, and there was great excitement,
+as they thought the Boche had spotted the Chiefs whereabouts. The
+explosions went on, and out came the Chief. He walked straight up to
+me, laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "That's the worst of having
+a fellow like you here, Major. I thought the Huns would spot it," and,
+having had his joke, went back to his work. He was a great man. It
+turned out to be a munition dump which had exploded near by, and the
+noise was deafening for about eight hours.
+
+This was the time of the great fight round the chemical works at
+Roeux, and I was drawing the men as they came out for rest. They
+were mostly in a bad state, but some were quite calm. One, I remember,
+was quite happy. He had ten days' leave and was going back to some
+village near Manchester to be married. He showed me her photograph, (p. 029)
+a pretty girl. Perhaps he was killed afterwards.
+
+[Illustration: IX. _Air-Marshal Sir H. M. Trenchard, Bart., K.C.B.,
+etc._]
+
+The view from Mont St. Eloy was fine, with the guns belching out flame
+on the plain in the midday sun.
+
+One day I was painting the C.-in-C., and at lunch-time the news came
+in that General Trenchard was there. The C.-in-C. said: "Orpen must
+see 'Boom,' he's great," so I was taken off and we met him in the
+garden. A huge man with a little head and a great personality, proud
+of one thing only, that is, that he is a descendant of Jack Sheppard.
+With him, to my delight, was Maurice Baring (his A.D.C.). The General
+was told that I wanted to see the aerodromes, and Maurice shyly said:
+"May I take Orpen round, sir? I know him." Gee! How happy I was when
+the General said: "All right, you see to it, Baring."
+
+I painted "Boom" a few days later in a beautiful chateau with the most
+wonderful old stables. They have all been burnt down since. "Boom"
+worked hard all the time I painted. A few days later Baring told me
+that he had spoken to "Boom" and told him how much I admired his head.
+"Boom" replied: "Damned if he showed it in his painting." And yet he
+was worshipped by all the flying boys.
+
+About this time I had sent from England Maurice Baring's "In Memoriam"
+to Lord Lucas. It made a tremendous impression on me then, and still
+does. I think it is one of the greatest poems ever written, and by far
+the greatest work of art the war has produced.
+
+Baring took me out for a great day round the aerodromes. We visited
+several and lunched with a Wing-Commander, Colonel Freeman, who was
+most kind, a great lover of books, a lot of which Maurice used to
+supply him with. After this, we visited a squadron where there was to (p. 030)
+be a test fight between a German Albatross, which had been captured
+intact, and one of our machines. The fight was a failure, however, as
+just after they got up something went wrong with the radiator of the
+Albatross; but later Captain Little did some wonderful stunts on a
+triplane. I also saw Robert Gregory there, but had no chance to speak
+to him. But I learnt that he was doing very well and was most popular
+in the squadron, and that he had painted some fine scenery for their
+theatre.
+
+St. Pol possessed an open-air swimming-bath, a strange thing for St.
+Pol, but there it was--a fine large swimming-bath, full of warm water
+which came from some chemical works. I used to swim there every
+evening when I got back from work. The one thing that struck me at
+that time was the difference between nudity and uniform--while bathing
+one could look at and study all these fine lads, and I would think of
+one, "Gee! there's an aristocrat. What a figure! What refinement!" and
+of another, "What a badly-bred, vulgar, common brute!" Later they
+would both come out of their bathing-boxes, and the "brute" would be a
+smartly dressed officer carrying himself with ease and distinction,
+and the "aristocrat" would be an untidy, uncouth "Tommy" shambling
+along. Truly on sight one should never judge a man with his clothes
+on.
+
+[Illustration: X. _Howitzer in Action._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV (p. 031)
+
+THE YPRES SALIENT (JUNE-JULY 1917)
+
+
+It was about this time we moved to Cassel. Nothing very interesting in
+the journey till one comes to Arques and St. Omer (at one time Lord
+French's G.H.Q.). The road from Arques to the station at the foot of
+Cassel Hill was always lined on each side by lorries, guns, pontoons
+and all manner of war material. A gloomy road, thick with mud for the
+most part, if not dust. It was always a pleasure to start climbing
+Cassel Hill, past the seven windmills and up to the little town
+perched on the summit.
+
+Cassel is a picturesque little spot, with its glazed tiles and
+sprinkling of Spanish buildings, and the view from it is marvellous.
+On a clear day one could see practically the whole line from Nieuport
+to Armentieres and the coast from Nieuport to Boulogne. At that time,
+the 2nd Army H.Q. were in the one-time casino, which was the summit of
+the town, and from its roof one got a clear view all round. Cassel was
+to the Ypres Salient what Amiens was to the Somme, and the little
+"Hotel Sauvage" stood for the "Godbert," the "Cathedral" and
+"Charlie's Bar" all in one. The dining-room, with its long row of
+windows showing the wonderful view, like the Rubens landscape in the
+National Gallery, was packed every night for the most part with
+fighting boys from the Salient, who had come in for a couple of hours
+to eat, drink, play the piano and sing, forgetting their misery and (p. 032)
+discomfort for the moment. It was enormously interesting to watch and
+study what happened in that room. One saw gaiety, misery, fear,
+thoughtfulness and unthoughtfulness all mixed up like a kaleidoscope.
+It was a well-run, romantic little hotel, built round a small
+courtyard, which was always noisy with the tramp of cavalry horses and
+the rattle of harness. The hotel was managed by Madame Loorius and her
+two daughters, Suzanne and Blanche, who were known as "The Peaches."
+
+Suzanne was undoubtedly the Queen of the Ypres Salient, as sure as
+Marguerite was that of the Somme. One look from the eyes of Suzanne,
+one smile, and these wonderful lads would go back to their
+gun-pits--or who knows where?--proud.
+
+Suzanne wore an R.F.C. badge on her breast. She was engaged to be
+married to an R.F.C. officer at that time. Whether the marriage ever
+came off I know not. Certainly not before the end of the war, and now
+Madame is dead, and they have given up the "Sauvage," and are, as far
+as I am concerned, lost.
+
+Here the Press used to come when any particular operation was going on
+in the North. In my mind now I can look clearly from my room across
+the courtyard and can see Beach Thomas by his open window, in his
+shirt-sleeves, writing like fury at some terrific tale for the _Daily
+Mail_. It seemed strange his writing this stuff, this mild-eyed,
+country-loving dreamer; but he knew his job.
+
+Philip Gibbs was also there--despondent, gloomy, nervy, realising to
+the full the horror of the whole business; his face drawn very fine,
+and intense sadness in his very kind eyes; also Percival
+Phillips--that deep thinker on war, who probably knew more about it (p. 033)
+than all the rest of the correspondents put together.
+
+[Illustration: XI. _German 'Planes visiting Cassel._]
+
+The people of Cassel loved the Tommy, so the latter had a good time
+there.
+
+One day I drew German prisoners at Bailleul. They had just been
+captured, 3,500 in one cage, all covered with lice--3,500 men, some
+nude, some half-nude, trying to clean the lice off themselves. It was
+a strange business. The Boche at the time were sending over Jack
+Johnsons at the station, and these men used to cheer as each shell
+shrieked overhead.
+
+It was at Cassel I first began to realise how wonderful the women of
+the working class in France were, how absolutely different and
+infinitely superior they were to the same class at home; in fact no
+class in England corresponded to them at all. Clean, neat, prim women,
+working from early dawn till late at night, apparently with unceasing
+energy, they never seemed to tire and usually wore a smile.
+
+I remember one girl, a widow; her name was Madame Blanche, who worked
+at the "Hotel Sauvage." She was about twenty-two years of age, and she
+owned a house in Cassel. A few months before I arrived there her
+husband had contracted some sort of poisoning in the trenches and had
+been brought back to Cassel, where he died. Madame Blanche interested
+me; she was very slim and prim and neat and tightly laced. Her fair
+hair was always very carefully crimped. She looked like a girl out of
+a painting by Metsu or Van Meer. I could see her posing at a piano for
+either, calm, gentle and silent; and could imagine her in the midst of
+all the refined surroundings in which these artists would have painted
+her. But now her surroundings were khaki, and her background was the
+wonderful Flemish view from the windows--miles and miles of country, (p. 034)
+with the old sausage balloons floating sleepily in the distance.
+
+I must have looked at Madame Blanche a lot--perhaps too much. I
+remember she used to smile at me; but that was as far as our
+friendship could get--smiles, as I only knew about ten words of
+French, and she less of English.
+
+But one day she surprised me, and left me thinking and wondering more
+of the strange, unbelievable things that happen to one in this world.
+
+It was after lunch one Sunday: I had just got back to my room to work
+when there was a knock on the door, and in walked Madame Blanche, who,
+after much trouble to us both, I gathered wished me to go for a walk
+with her. Impossible! I, a major, a Field Officer, to walk at large
+through the streets of Cassel, 2nd Army H.Q., with a serving-girl from
+the "Hotel Sauvage"! I succeeded in explaining this after some time;
+and then, to my amazement, she broke down and wept. The convulsive
+sobbing continued, and I thought and wondered, and in the end decided
+that I was crazy to make a woman weep because I would not go for a
+walk with her. So I told her I would do so; and she dried her eyes and
+asked me to meet her in the hotel yard in ten minutes.
+
+When I got down to the yard the rain was coming down in torrents, and
+there she was, dressed in her widow's weeds and holding in her arms a
+mass of flowers. Solemnly we went out into the streets. Not a
+civilian, not a soldier, not even a military policeman was to be seen.
+All other human beings had taken refuge from the deluge: we were quite
+alone. Right through the town we went and out to the little cemetery,
+into which she brought me and led to her husband's grave, on which she
+placed the mass of flowers, and then knelt in the mud and prayed for (p. 035)
+about half an hour in the pouring rain; after which we walked solemnly
+and silently back to the hotel, soaked through and through. It was a
+strange affair. I may be stupid, but I cannot yet see her reason for
+wishing to take me out in the wet.
+
+[Illustration: XII. _Soldiers and Peasants, Cassel._]
+
+After working up there for about six weeks I began to feel very tired,
+and thought I would go for a change; so I decided to run away and go
+and see some "Bases"--Dieppe, Le Havre and Rouen. The day after I
+reached Dieppe I received a telegram from the "Colonel": "When do you
+return?" to which I replied: "Return where, please?" to which
+apparently no reply could be made. But two days later I received a
+letter from him saying he was moving to another job, but would always
+remember the honour of his having had me working under him. This was a
+nasty one for me, and I had no answer to give. About the same time I
+received a telegram from Sir Philip Sassoon: "Where the devil are you?
+_aaa_ Philip." Months later he sent me a great parcel of
+correspondence as to whether this telegram, sent by the P.S. of the
+C.-in-C., could be regarded as an official telegram, its language,
+etc. The minutes were signed by Lieutenants, Captains, Majors,
+Colonels, all up to the last one, which was signed by a General, and
+ran thus: "What the ---- hell were you using this disgusting language
+for, Philip?"
+
+After a week I went back to Cassel, packed up and went south to
+Amiens.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V (p. 036)
+
+THE SOMME IN SUMMER-TIME (AUGUST 1917)
+
+
+Never shall I forget my first sight of the Somme in summer-time. I had
+left it mud, nothing but water, shell-holes and mud--the most gloomy,
+dreary abomination of desolation the mind could imagine; and now, in
+the summer of 1917, no words could express the beauty of it. The
+dreary, dismal mud was baked white and pure--dazzling white. White
+daisies, red poppies and a blue flower, great masses of them,
+stretched for miles and miles. The sky a pure dark blue, and the whole
+air, up to a height of about forty feet, thick with white butterflies:
+your clothes were covered with butterflies. It was like an enchanted
+land; but in the place of fairies there were thousands of little white
+crosses, marked "Unknown British Soldier," for the most part. (Later,
+all these bodies were taken up and nearly all were identified and
+re-buried in Army cemeteries.) Through the masses of white
+butterflies, blue dragon-flies darted about; high up the larks sang;
+higher still the aeroplanes droned. Everything shimmered in the heat.
+Clothes, guns, all that had been left in confusion when the war passed
+on, had now been baked by the sun into one wonderful combination of
+colour--white, pale grey and pale gold. The only dark colours were the
+deep red bronze of the "wire" and one black cat which lived in a
+shelter in what once was the main street of Thiepval. It was strange,
+this black cat living there all alone. No humans, or those of her own (p. 037)
+species, lived within miles of her. It took me days to make friends
+and get her to come to me; and when at last I succeeded, the
+friendship did not last long. No matter where I worked round that
+district, the black cat of Thiepval would find me, and would approach
+silently, and would suddenly jump on my knees and dig all her long
+nails deeply into my flesh, with affection. I stood it for a little
+time, and then gave her a good smack, after which I never saw my
+little black friend again.
+
+[Illustration: XIII. _German Prisoners._]
+
+Thiepval Chateau, one of the largest in the north of France, was
+practically flattened. What little mound was left was covered with
+flowers. Some bricks had been collected from it and marked the grave
+of "An Unknown British Soldier." Even Albert, that deadly
+uninteresting little town, looked almost beautiful and cheerful.
+Flowers grew by the sides of the streets; roses were abundant in what
+were once back-gardens; a hut was up at the corner by the Cathedral
+and _Daily Mails_ were sold there every evening at four o'clock, and
+the golden leaning Lady holding her Baby, looking down towards the
+street, gleamed in the sun on top of the Cathedral tower.
+
+A family had come back from Corbie and re-started their restaurant--a
+father and three charming girls. They patched up the little house by
+the station and did a roaring trade, and some few other families came
+back. Once more a skirt could be seen, even a few silk stockings
+occasionally tripping about.
+
+Peronne was now like a polished skeleton--very clean, but very
+brittle: a little breeze, and whole houses would tumble to bits. I
+started painting, one day, a little picture from the hall of the
+College for Young Ladies. When I went the next day I found my point of
+view had been raised several feet: the top walls had come down. But (p. 038)
+here again they had patched up a great big house as a club. It was
+airy, not intentionally so, but on a hot day it was ideal, with its
+view down over the Somme. Bully-beef pie, cheese and beer--if one
+could only have had French coffee instead of that terrible black
+mixture imported from England, things would have been more perfectly
+complete.
+
+About August, a burial party worked round Thiepval. Lieutenant Clark
+was in charge of it, a sturdy little Scot. During the month or so they
+worked there, they dug up, identified and re-buried thousands of
+bodies. Some could not be identified, and what was found on these in
+the way of money, knives, etc., was considered fair spoil for the
+burial party.
+
+Often, coming down Thiepval Hill in the evening, everything golden in
+the sunlight, one would come across a little group of men, sitting by
+the side of the battered Hill Road, counting out and dividing the
+spoils of the day. It was a sordid sight, but for a non-combatant job,
+to be a member of a burial party was certainly not a pleasant one, and
+I do not think anyone could grudge them whatever pennies they made,
+and most of them would have to go back in the trenches when their
+burial party disbanded.
+
+Down in the Valley of the Ancre, just beside the Thiepval Hill Road,
+there was a great colony of Indians. They were all Catholics, and were
+headed by an old padre who had worked in India for forty-five years--a
+fine old fellow. He held wonderful services each Sunday afternoon on
+the side of the Hill in the open air; he had an altar put up with
+wonderful coloured draperies behind it, which hung from a structure
+about thirty feet high. In the mornings, it was a very beautiful (p. 039)
+sight to see these nut-brown men washing themselves and their bronze
+vessels among the reeds in the Ancre; one could hardly believe one was
+in France. And where was one? Surely in a place and seeing a life that
+never existed before, and never will again. The rapidity with which
+these Indians (they were a cleaning-up party) changed the whole face
+of Thiepval and that part of the Ancre Valley was incredible.
+
+[Illustration: XIV. _View from the Old English Trenches. Looking
+towards La Boisselle._]
+
+When working in the Valley of the Ancre region, coming home in the
+evening, we would bring the car down to the water near Aveluy. It is a
+long stretch of water, and the Tommies had put up a springboard. It
+was a joy to take off one's clothes in the car and jump into the cool
+water and watch all these wonderful young men stripping, diving,
+swimming, drying and dressing in the evening sun, all full of life and
+health. At one period, Joffroy, a very good French artist, who had
+lost a leg, right up to his trunk, early in the War, used to swim
+there with me. He had been a great athlete, and had a very strong
+arm-stroke, and possessed one of the most beautifully-developed bodies
+I have ever seen. One evening, after bathing, as we were driving back
+to Amiens in the car, he stretched out his arms and said, "Orpen, I
+feel like a young Greek god!" And, after a pause, added: "But only a
+fragment, you know, only a fragment." He was a great man, and could
+clamber over trenches with his wooden stump in a marvellous way.
+
+I remember that summer a strange thing happened. One day I found, and
+started painting, the remains of a Britisher and a Boche--just skulls,
+bones, garments--up by the trenches at Thiepval. I was all alone. My
+faithful Howlett was about half a mile away with the car. When I had
+been working about a couple of hours I felt strange. I cannot say (p. 040)
+even now what I felt. Afraid? Of what? The sun shone fiercely. There
+was not a breath of air. Perhaps it was that--a touch of the sun. So I
+stopped painting and went and sat on the trunk of a blown-up tree
+close by, when suddenly I was thrown on the back of my head on the
+ground. My heavy easel was upset, and one of the skulls went through
+the canvas. I got up and thought a lot, but came to the conclusion I
+had better just go on working, which I did, and nothing further
+strange happened. That night I happened to meet Joffroy, and told him
+about these skulls, and how peculiar one was, as it had a division in
+the frontal bone (the Britisher's). He said he would like to go and
+make a study of it; so I brought him out the next morning to the
+place, I myself working that day in Thiepval Wood, about half a mile
+further up the hill. I left him, saying I would come back and bring
+him lunch from the car, as it was difficult for him to get about. When
+I did get back I found him lying down, not very near the place, saying
+he felt very ill and he thought it was the smell "from those remains."
+He had done no work, and refused even to try to eat till we got a long
+way away from the skulls. I explained to him that there was no smell,
+and he said, "But didn't you see one has an eye still?" But I knew
+that all four eyes had withered away months before. There must have
+been something strange about the place.
+
+Most of these summer months John Masefield was working on the Somme
+battlefields. He preferred to work out there on the spot. He would get
+a lift out from Amiens in the morning on a motor or lorry, work all
+day by himself at some spot like La Boisselle, and walk back to the
+bridge at Albert and look out for a lift back to Amiens. If we worked
+out in this direction, on the way home our eye was always kept on the (p. 041)
+look-out for him; but really it never appeared to matter to him if he
+got back or not. I don't believe he minded where he was as long as he
+could ponder over things all alone.
+
+[Illustration: XV. _Adam and Eve at Peronne._]
+
+The small towns and villages in this part of the country, behind the
+old fighting line of 1916, were, for the most part, dirty and usually
+uninteresting; but once clear of them the plains of Picardy had much
+charm and beauty, great, undulating, rolling plains, cut into large
+chequers made by the different crops. When a hill became too steep to
+work on, it was cut into terraces, like one sees in many of the
+vineyards in the South; these often have great decorative charm. A
+fair country--I remember Joffroy sometimes used the word "graceful"
+regarding different views in those parts, and the word gives the
+impression well.
+
+There is a beautiful valley on the left, as one goes from Amiens to
+Albert: one looked down into it from the road, a patchwork of greens,
+browns, greys and yellows. I remember John Masefield said one day it
+looked to him like a post-impressionist table-cloth; later, white
+zigzagging lines were cut all through it--trenches.
+
+In the spring of 1917 it was strange motoring out from Amiens to
+Albert. Just beyond this valley everything changed. Suddenly one felt
+oneself in another world. Before this point one drove through ordinary
+natural country, with women and children and men working in the
+fields; cows, pigs, hens and all the usual farm belongings. Then,
+before one could say "Jack Robinson!" not another civilian, not
+another crop, nothing but a vast waste of land; no life, except Army
+life; nothing but devastation, desolation and khaki.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI (p. 042)
+
+THE SOMME (SEPTEMBER 1917)
+
+
+About this time I got a telegram from Lord Beaverbrook asking me to
+meet him the next morning at Hesdin (Canadian Representatives' H.Q.);
+so I left Amiens early, arriving at Hesdin about 11.45 a.m. There they
+handed me a letter from him explaining to me that something very
+important had happened, and that he had left for Cassel. Would I have
+some lunch and follow him there? I lunched alone at the H.Q. and
+started for Cassel, where I arrived about 2.30, and found a letter
+telling me that he found that the aerodrome from which he wanted to
+get the news he desired was not near Cassel, so he had left, but would
+I meet him at the "Hotel du Louvre," Boulogne, at 4 p.m., as his boat
+left at 4.20? Away I went to Boulogne, and walked up and down outside
+the "Louvre." About ten minutes past four up breezed a car, and in it
+was a slim little man with an enormous head and two remarkable eyes. I
+saluted and tried to make military noises with my boots. Said he: "Are
+you Orpen?" "Yes, sir," said I. "Are you willing to work for the
+Canadians?" said he. "Certainly, sir," said I. "Well," said he,
+"that's all right. Jump in, and we'll go and have a drink." So down to
+the buffet we went, and we had a bottle of champagne in very quick
+time, and away he went on to the boat, without another word, smiling;
+and the smile continued till I lost sight of him round the corner of (p. 043)
+the jetty. A strange day: I wondered a lot on the way back to Amiens,
+where I arrived about 9.45. I never knew then what a good friend I had
+met.
+
+[Illustration: XVI. _A Grave in a Trench._]
+
+As before, in Cassel, I first began to realise how wonderful the
+workwomen of France were, so in Amiens I began to realise how
+different the young men of France were to what one was brought up at
+home to imagine. I had always been led to believe that an Englishman
+was a far finer example of the human race than a Frenchman; but it
+certainly is not so now. The young Frenchman is a keen, strong, hardy
+fellow, and his general level of physical development is very high.
+
+I remember this was brought home to me by having baths at Amiens.
+There was one bathroom in the hotel, and it contained a bath, but no
+hot water ran into it. So I told my batman to get hot water brought
+there in the mornings. The bathroom was on the first floor of the
+hotel, across on the other side of the courtyard from where I slept.
+The assistant cook, a man six feet odd high, and weighing about
+thirteen stone, a merry, jovial great giant, used to heat water for me
+and put it into an enormous bronze tub, which held a whole bathful;
+and he and my batman used to carry this upstairs; but if I happened to
+come along at the same time, this great man used to bend down and pick
+me up with his free hand and set me on his shoulder, and so to the
+bathroom.
+
+One morning, about a year later, he told me he was going to leave. I
+asked him if he had got the "sack," or if he were leaving of his own
+free will. "Neither," said he. "I'm called up; I'm of age." This
+great, enormous man had only then reached the age of seventeen years. (p. 044)
+It amazed me. I remember a sad thing happened. When he left I gave him
+fifty francs and one hundred "Gold Flake" cigarettes. He had to go
+through Paris to get to his regiment, and when he arrived at the Gare
+du Nord they searched him, and found the cigarettes, took them from
+him, and fined him two hundred and fifty francs. It was a sad gift.
+
+About this time I painted de Maratray--philosopher, musician,
+correspondent and clown.
+
+Fane had gone, and Captain Maude was A.P.M. Amiens. Maude was a good
+A.P.M. His police were well looked after and adored him. He never
+wanted an officer or man from the trenches to get into trouble, but
+did his best to get them out of it when they were in it. Often have I
+been sitting at dinner with him at the "Hotel de la Paix" and one of
+his police would come in and say, "A young officer is at the 'Godbert,'
+sir. He's had too much to drink, and is behaving very badly." Maude
+would curse loudly at his dinner being spoilt, but would always leave
+at once, and would calm down whatever young firebrand it was, find out
+where he had to go, and have him seen off by lorry or train to his
+destination. All this meant much more trouble for Maude than to have
+him arrested, and much less trouble for the culprit; but he always put
+them on their honour never to do it again; and many are the letters I
+have seen thanking him for being "a sport," and promising never "to do
+it again"; and asking would he dine with them the next time they got a
+night off? That was Maude's idea: he could not do too much for the men
+from the trenches, and they appreciated it. Maude was loved all
+through the North of France, except by a few rival A.P.M.'s. One (p. 045)
+could easily judge what his character was like from his favourite
+song:--
+
+ "Mulligatawny soup,
+ A mackerel or a sole,
+ A Banbury and a Bath bun,
+ And a tuppenny sausage roll.
+ A little glass of sherry,
+ Just a tiny touch of cham,
+ A roly-poly pudding
+ And Jam! _Jam!!_ JAM!!!"
+
+[Illustration: XVII. _The Deserter._]
+
+A lot of nice people used to come to Amiens at that period; Colonel
+Woodcock and Colonel Belfield, the "Spot King," and Ernest Courage,
+"Jorrocks," in particular. It all became one large party at night for
+dinner. Maude was very popular with all the French officials, and
+great goodwill existed between the French and the British, and
+Marcelle's black eyes smiled at us from behind the desk, with its
+books, fruit, cheese and bottles; smiled so well that had she been
+different she might have out-pointed Marguerite as "Queen of the
+British Troops in Picardy." But no, her book-keeping and an occasional
+smile were enough for Marcelle, and she did them both exceedingly
+well.
+
+Poor Marcelle! Afterwards I was told that when the Huns began to bomb
+Amiens badly she completely broke down and cried and sobbed at her
+desk. She was sent away down South, to Bordeaux, I think, and we never
+saw her again. It was sad. She was a sweet child, with her great dark
+eyes, and the little curl on her forehead, and her keen sense of the
+ridiculous.
+
+The song of that time was:--
+
+ "Dear face that holds so sweet a smile for me.
+ Were it not mine, how 'Blotto' I should be."
+
+But one night Carroll Carstairs of the Grenadier Guards breezed into (p. 046)
+Amiens, bringing with him a new American song which became very
+popular. The chorus ran something like this:--
+
+ "When Uncle Sam comes
+ He brings his Infantry;
+ He brings Artillery;
+ He brings his Cavalry.
+ Then, by God, we'll all go to Germany!
+ God help Kaiser Bill!
+ God help Kaiser Bill!
+ God help Kaiser Bill!
+
+ "For when Uncle Sam comes...." (Repeat)
+
+One day Maude asked me to go to the belfry, the old sixteenth-century
+prison of Amiens, a beautiful building outside, but inside it was very
+black and awe-inspiring. The cells, away up in the tower, with their
+stone beds and straw, rats and smaller animals, made one's flesh
+creep. I am sorry I never painted the old fat lady who kept the keys
+in the entrance hall, a black place, lit by an oil lamp which hung
+over the stone fireplace. I put off painting her and her hall then for
+some reason, and later she was killed by a shell at the door during
+the bombardment. Here in the belfry the deserters were put, in an
+endeavour to make them say who they were, and Maude asked me to go
+this day because he had an interesting case.
+
+A young man in a captain's tunic had been found in a brothel, and his
+papers were very incomplete. He had no leave warrant. They found he
+had been living at the "Hotel de la Paix" for about a week. He had
+come to Amiens on a motor-bicycle, which he left in the street. They
+telephoned to the "Captain's" regiment and found the "Captain" was
+with his unit, but a tunic had been stolen from him at Calais. They (p. 047)
+also found a motor-bicycle had been stolen from Calais, and that it
+corresponded in number with the one found in the street.
+
+[Illustration: XVIII. _The Great Mine. La Boisselle._]
+
+We were given a candle, and climbed the black stairs to his cell. The
+youth was in a bad state, sobbing. Maude told him how sorry he was for
+him, and asked him not to be a fool, but to tell him the truth, and he
+would have him out of that place at once. He agreed, and told a long
+story, or rather--another long story. This was his third day and his
+third story, and it turned out there was not a word of truth in this
+one either.
+
+He was one of the best-looking young men I ever saw, tall, clean-cut
+and smart-looking. The next day Maude found out that most of his tears
+were due to the fact that he was very badly diseased, and of course,
+without any treatment, was getting worse daily. Maude could not stand
+this, so he sent him to the hospital for treatment, from which the
+youth promptly escaped, and was not found again for ten days. They
+knew some one must have been hiding him, probably a woman; which
+proved right. In ten days he was found, plus forty pounds, which the
+lady had given him.
+
+Maude gave him one more twenty-four hours' chance in the belfry; but
+it was no good, only more lies. So he was sent to Le Havre, where I
+believe no deserter has ever lasted more than forty-eight hours
+without telling the truth and nothing but the truth. I presumed that
+after that he was shot. The only thing I learnt for certain, was that
+he was a Colonial private. Some time later I used to go very often to
+a little restaurant in Paris, and became friends with one of the head
+waiters. He said a customer had come in, giving the name of Lord
+X----, and had engaged a table for dinner. He evidently had some
+doubt about Lord X----, and asked me if I would know him if I saw (p. 048)
+him. I said, "Certainly," as the name given was that of the son of
+one of the best-known Earls in England. In he came for dinner, a very
+good-looking man, wearing the Legion d'Honneur. Lord X----, the
+deserter of the belfry!
+
+The great mine at La Boisselle was a wonderful sight. One morning I
+was wandering about the old battlefield, and I came across a great
+wilderness of white chalk--not a tuft of grass, not a flower, nothing
+but blazing chalk; apparently a hill of chalk dotted thickly all over
+with bits of shrapnel. I walked up it, and suddenly found myself on
+the lip of the crater. I felt myself in another world. This enormous
+hole, 320 yards round at the top, with sides so steep one could not
+climb down them, was the vast, terrific work of man. Imagine burrowing
+all that way down in the belly of the earth, with Hell going on
+overhead, burrowing and listening till they got right under the German
+trenches--hundreds and hundreds of yards of burrowing. And here
+remained the result of their work, on the earth at least, if not on
+humanity. The latter had disappeared; but the great chasm, with one
+mound in the centre at the bottom, and one skull placed on top of it,
+remained. They had cut little steps down one of its sides, and had
+cleared up all the human remains and buried them in this mound. That
+one mound, with the little skull on the top, at the bottom of this
+enormous chasm, was the greatest monument I have ever seen to the
+handiwork of man.
+
+There was another fairly large mine here, just by the Bapaume Road,
+and there was a large mine at Beaumont-Hamel, and also the
+"Cough-drop" at High Wood. These were wonderful, but they could not
+compare in dignity and grandeur with the great mine of La Boisselle.
+
+[Illustration: XIX. _The Butte de Warlencourt._]
+
+Working out on the Somme, in the evenings as the sun was going down, (p. 049)
+one heard constantly a drone of aeroplanes, which quickly grew louder
+and louder, and before one could think, two of these great birds would
+pass just over one's head, quite close to the ground. A couple of
+minutes later, Bang! bang! bang! bang! and the boom and crash of the
+guns. Presently you would see the two birds, high up, returning to
+their aerodrome. They had gone up to the Boche trenches, in the eye of
+the sun, machine-gunning them and dropping small bombs.
+
+The Butte de Warlencourt looked very beautiful in the afternoon light
+that summer. Pale gold against the eastern sky, with the mangled
+remains of trees and houses, which was once Le Sars, on its left. But
+what must it have looked like when the Somme was covered with snow,
+and the white-garmented Tommies used to raid it at night? It must
+surely have been a ghostly sight then, in the winter of 1916.
+
+About this time I went to Paris several week-ends at odd times and
+painted for the Canadians Generals Burstall, Watson and Lipsett, also
+Major O'Connor. Poor Lipsett was killed by a shell later. He was a
+thoughtful, clever, quiet man, and was greatly respected. Burstall was
+a great, bluff, big, hearty fellow, and Watson was a fine chap, a real
+"sport." O'Connor was A.D.C. to General Currie, and had been twice
+wounded.
+
+Paris! What a city!
+
+ "Paree!
+ That's the place for me.
+ Just across the sea
+ From Dover!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII (p. 050)
+
+WITH THE FLYING CORPS (OCTOBER 1917)
+
+
+About this time, the C.-in-C. was granted the Order of a Knighthood of
+the Thistle. It was given to him by the King during his visit to
+France in a chateau at Cassel. No one was present when he received
+this honour. Just afterwards I did a little interior of the room.
+
+General Trenchard and Maurice Baring chose out two flying boys for me
+to paint, and they sat to me at Cassel. One was 2nd Lieutenant A. P.
+Rhys Davids, D.S.O., M.C., a great youth. He had brought down a lot of
+Germans, including two cracks, Schaffer and Voss. The first time I saw
+him was at the aerodrome at Estre Blanche. I watched him land in his
+machine, just back from over the lines. Out he got, stuck his hands in
+his pockets, and laughed and talked about the flight with Hoidge and
+others of the patrol, and his Major, Bloomfield. A fine lad, Rhys
+Davids, with a far-seeing, clear eye. He hated fighting, hated flying,
+loved books and was terribly anxious for the war to be over, so that
+he could get to Oxford. He had been captain of Eton the year before,
+so he was an all-round chap, and must have been a magnificent pilot.
+The 56th Squadron was very sad when he was reported missing, and
+refused to believe for one moment that he had been killed till they
+got the certain news. It was a great loss.
+
+The other airman chosen was Captain Hoidge, M.C. and Bar--"George" (p. 051)
+of Toronto. Hoidge had also brought down a lot of Germans. His face
+was wonderfully fitted for a man-bird. His eyes were bird's eyes. A
+good lad was Hoidge, and I became very fond of him afterwards. I
+arranged with Maurice Baring and Major Bloomfield that Hoidge was to
+come to Cassel one morning at 11 a.m. to sit to me. The morning
+arrived and 11 o'clock and no Hoidge. Eleven-thirty, 12--no Hoidge.
+About 12:30 he strolled into the yard and I heard him asking for me in
+a slow voice. I was raging with anger by this time. He came upstairs
+and I told him there was no use doing anything before lunch, and that
+we had better go down and get some food. We ate silently. I could see
+he was rather depressed. About halfway through our meal, he said: "I'm
+lucky to be here with you this morning!" "Why?" said I. "Oh," he said,
+"I made a damned fool of myself this morning. Let an old Boche get on
+my tail. Damned fool I was--with my experience. Never saw the
+blighter. I was following an old two-seater at the time. He put a
+bullet through the box by my head, and cut two of my stays. If old B.
+hadn't happened to come up and chased him off I was for it. Damned
+fool! But the morning wasn't wasted, afterwards I got two
+two-seaters." I said: "Do you realise you have killed four men this
+morning?" "No," he said, "but I winged two damned nice birds." Then we
+went upstairs and he sat like a lamb.
+
+[Illustration: XX. _Lieut. A. P. F. Rhys Davids, D.S.O., M.C._]
+
+One evening, during the King's stay at Cassel, I was working in my
+room about 7 o'clock, when a little scrap of paper was brought me on
+which was written, "I am dining downstairs.--M. B." I went downstairs
+and there was Maurice Baring, and, with luck for me, alone. We had a
+great dinner. He was in his best form; for after dinner we went up to
+my room and sat by the open window and talked and talked. Suddenly (p. 052)
+Maurice stopped, and said: "What's that noise?" "What noise?" said I.
+So we looked down into the courtyard--only about ten feet--and there
+was "Boom," who had been dining with the King, and Philip Sassoon.
+"What the devil are you two doing?" said "Boom." "We've both been
+shouting ourselves hoarse for ten minutes. It's the last damned time
+you dine with Orpen, Maurice!" It's true we never heard them--but then
+Maurice was talking.
+
+One morning, when the wind was very fresh, I got a telephone message
+from Major Bloomfield telling me to come to the squadron at once and
+see some "crashes." It was a glorious morning, blue sky, with great
+white clouds sailing by. I got down to the squadron as quickly as I
+could. A whole lot of novices from England had been sent out on
+trials, and the Major expected "great fun" when they landed.
+
+The fire was made big and a great line of blue smoke whirled down the
+aerodrome to give the direction of the wind. Presently they began to
+come back. Some landed beautifully--one in particular--and the Major
+said to me: "Come on, I must go and congratulate that chap," and
+started running for the machine. When we got closer, he stopped and
+said: "Damn it! it's Hoidge, I forgot he was out."
+
+I remember one poor chap in particular. He circled the aerodrome
+twelve times, each time coming down for a landing and each time
+funking it at the last moment. At last he did land, two or three
+bumps, and then--apparently slowly--the machine's nose went to the
+ground and gracefully it turned turtle. "Come along," said the Major,
+and when we got to the machine the wretched pilot was getting out from
+under it. "You unspeakable creature," said the Major. "Don't let me
+see your face again for twenty-four hours." And away limped the (p. 053)
+"unspeakable creature," covered with oil and dirt. I must add that
+after lunch the Major went up to him and patted his back and said he
+hoped he felt none the worse. But the thing that amazed me was, that
+although the machine seemed to land so gently, the damage to it was
+terrific--propeller and all sorts of strong things smashed to bits.
+
+[Illustration: XXI. _Lieut. R. T. C. Hoidge, M.C._]
+
+Ping-pong was the great game at this squadron (56th), and I used to
+play with a lot of them, including Hoidge and McCudden, but I did not
+know the latter's name at that time. It was before he became famous.
+
+One day I went there with Maurice Baring, and the Major was greatly
+excited because they had just finished making a little circular saw to
+cut firewood for the squadron for the winter. The Major had a great
+idea that, as the A.D.C. to "Boom" was lunching, after lunch there
+would be an "official" opening of the circular saw. It was agreed that
+all officers and men were to attend (no flying was possible that day)
+and that Maurice should make a speech, after which he was to cut the
+end of a cigar with the saw, then a box was made with a glass front in
+which the cigar was to be placed after the A.D.C. had smoked a little
+of it, and the box was to be hung in the mess of the squadron. It was
+all a great success. Maurice made a splendid speech. We all cheered,
+and then the cigar was cut (to bits nearly). Maurice smoked a little,
+and it was put safely in its box. Then Maurice was given the first log
+to cut. This was done, but Maurice was now worked up, so he took his
+cap off and cut this in halves. He was then proceeding to take off his
+tunic for the same purpose, but was carried away from the scene of
+execution by a cheering crowd. It was a great day. I remember Maurice
+saw me back to Cassel about 1 a.m., after much ping-pong and music. (p. 054)
+"I'll go back to the shack where the black-eyed Susans," etc., was the
+song of the moment then in the squadron.
+
+Shortly after this Major Bloomfield was ordered home, promoted and, I
+think, sent to America. At this loss, a great gloom fell over the 56th
+Squadron. I never saw any squadron in France that was run nearly so
+well as the 56th under Bloomfield, nor any Major loved more by his
+boys.
+
+[Illustration: XXII. _The Return of a Patrol._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII (p. 055)
+
+CASSEL AND IN HOSPITAL (NOVEMBER 1917)
+
+
+About this time I went to Paris and met several Generals and Mr.
+Andrew Weir (now Lord Inverforth), and it was arranged that Aikman was
+to go home to the War Office and that I, perhaps, might have my
+brother out later to look after me. Aikman left, and I was very
+lonely. A better-hearted companion and a kinder man one could not
+meet, and regarding the intricacies of "King's Regulations" and
+such-like things, he was a past master.
+
+After this, whenever I went to Paris, the great thing was to stop on
+the way at Clermont and lunch with "Hunchie." "Hunchie" kept the
+buffet at the station. He had a broken back and had been a chemist in
+Paris, but said he had come to the station at Clermont for excitement.
+It was so exciting that Maude proposed stopping there for a rest cure!
+But "Hunchie's" lunches were excellent. I remember one day on my way
+to Paris, I asked him at lunch if he had any Worcestershire Sauce; he
+had not. He asked me when I was coming back North again. I said the
+next day, which I did, and stopped for lunch. He had the sauce. He had
+been to Paris to get it. "Hunchie" was a wonder, so was Madame, and so
+was their dog "Black."
+
+One spot in Paris, the Gare du Nord, will always mean a lot to the
+British Army on the Western Front. What sights one saw there!--masses
+of humanity, mostly British officers and men, each with their little (p. 056)
+"movement order": there they were in the heart of the Gay City. Yet
+that little slip of paper would, in a couple of hours, send them to
+Amiens, and a little later they would be at the front suffering Hell.
+Laboreur did a wonderful etching of an officer bidding farewell to his
+wife at the Gare du Nord. It gave the whole tragedy of the place--the
+blackness, smoke, smell and crush. There, any night during an air
+raid, one could not help thinking what would happen if the Boche got a
+bomb on the Gare, with its thousands of fighting men all jambed
+together under its glass roof in the semi-darkness. What a slaughter!
+And yet through it all, if the old Gare could only speak, it could
+tell some strange and amusing tales of that time--tales that would
+make one laugh, but with the laughter there would be a catch in the
+throat and a swimming in the eyes. It is extraordinary how funny
+sometimes the most tragic things can be.
+
+The weather had become very bad and cold, and I worked on all
+impossible out-of-door days in my room in the "Hotel de la Paix,"
+which was known as the "Bar." My only rule was that the "Bar" was not
+open till 6.30 p.m. At times it nearly rivalled "Charlie's Bar." At
+what hour the "Bar" closed I was not always certain, as, no matter who
+was there, at about 10:30 I used to undress and go to bed, and so
+accustomed did I get to the clink of glasses and the squirt of the
+syphons that I slept calmly through it all. Among the regular
+attendants when in Amiens were Captain Maude, "Major" Hogg, Colonel
+MacDowall of the 42nd G.H., Colonel Woodcock, Colonel Belfield (the
+Spot King), Captain Ernest Courage (Jorrocks), Captains Hale and Inge
+(then of the Press), Bedelo (Italian correspondent), and Captain
+Brickman--a merry lot, taking them all round, and that room heard some
+good stories; some may have been not quite nice, but none were as (p. 057)
+dirty or disreputable as the room itself, with its smell of mud,
+paint, drink, smoke, and the fumes from the famous "Flamme Bleue"
+stove. The last man to leave the bar had to open the window. This was
+a firm rule. It sometimes took the last man a long time to do it, but
+it was always done.
+
+[Illustration: XXIII. _Changing Billets._]
+
+By this period of the war nearly every French girl could speak some
+English, and great was their anger if one could not understand them. I
+remember a very nice girl, who worked at the "Hotel de la Paix," came
+to me one day and said solemnly, "My grandfadder he kill him."
+"Gracious!" I said, "whom did he kill?" "He kill him," was the furious
+reply. Apparently the poor grandfather, living under German rule at
+Landrecies, had committed suicide.
+
+I went back to Cassel and began to itch, mildly at first, and I was
+not in the least put out. My brother came to France, and I went to
+Boulogne to meet him. His boat was to arrive at 6.15 p.m., but did not
+get in till just 10 p.m. They had been away down the Channel avoiding
+something. Driving back to Cassel we had a fine sight of bombing and
+searchlights. Hardly a night passed at this period that the Boche did
+not have a "go" at St. Omer. One night, just then, they dropped three
+torpedoes in Cassel as we were having dinner, but Suzanne, the
+"Peach," at her desk, never fluttered an eyelid. I believe afterwards,
+during the summer of 1918, when things were quite nasty at Cassel, she
+never showed any signs of being nervous: just sat at her desk, made
+out the bills, and occasionally made some lad happy by a look and a
+smile.
+
+On some evenings we used to give great entertainments in the kitchen
+of the "Sauvage." I would stand the drinks, and Howlett (my chauffeur)
+played the mouth-organ, and Green (my batman) step-danced. It was an (p. 058)
+amusing sight watching the expressions of those old, fat Flemish
+workwomen of the hotel.
+
+The itching got worse, so one wet, black evening I went to see the
+M.O., took off my clothes in a dirty, cold, dark room, and he examined
+me carefully with the aid of an oil lamp. "You've got lice," he said.
+"Really?" said I. "Have you got a servant?" "Yes," said I. "Well, go
+back and give him Hell, and tell him to examine your clothes." I asked
+him about my foot, which had a hole in it about the size of a
+sixpence. "That's nothing," said he. "Keep it clean." So back I went,
+down the black cobbled street, called up my faithful boys, Howlett and
+Green, and told them I was lousy. I took my clothes off, and they
+examined them with electric torches and candles and oil lamps. Not a
+thing could they find. "Do you mind my looking at you, sir?" said
+Howlett. So he had one look. Said he, "If it were lice got you into
+that state, you'd be crawling with them."
+
+I stood the pain and itching another couple of days, and sent for the
+M.O. to come to me. As there was more light in my room, he came and
+had a look. "Ah!" said he, "I thought last time it might have been
+that: you've got scabies. You must leave here for X---- in the
+morning, and have all your bed-clothes sent round to me before you
+leave."
+
+[Illustration: XXIV. _The Receiving-room: 42nd Stationary Hospital._]
+
+In the morning I broke the news gently to Madame that I was a "dirty
+dog," and that my bed must go for a bit to be purged, and went round
+to the A.P.M. to say good-bye. When I told him where I was being sent,
+he said, "That place! Don't you do it. I was waiting there the other
+day to see someone, and I counted ten bugs on the wall." That put the
+wind up me, so I wrote to the M.O. and said I had an important (p. 059)
+meeting at Amiens that evening at 6 p.m., and that I would report at
+the X---- hospital immediately after that. He seemed rather hurt at my
+getting out of his reach, but he let me go (as I mentioned having to
+see the C.-in-C. on the way. It was wonderful what the mention of the
+C.-in-C. did for one!). He gave me my slip for the hospital:
+
+ "Herewith Major Orpen, suffering from scabies. Please...."
+
+and with this I departed for Amiens, where I reported to the Colonel
+of the X---- Hospital. Over a whisky-and-soda I gave him the "slip,"
+and he looked at my arm and said, "Yes, scabies," and I was put into
+the isolation ward and treated for this disease. How more people did
+not die in that hospital beats me. I personally never got any sleep,
+and left in a fortnight nearly dead. Lights were out at 10 p.m. This
+sounds good, but there were about eight of us in the ward. I had to
+have my foot treated every three hours. The man in the next bed to
+mine was treated for something every two hours; and nearly all the
+other beds were treated three or four times during the night. For all
+these treatments the lights blazed about twenty times each night, and
+some of the treatments were very noisy. At 6.30 a.m., in the dark, the
+nurse came round, and anyone who was not dying was turned out of bed.
+Why, I know not: there was no heat in the place. If you were well
+enough you went off to a soaking sort of scullery and heated some
+water over a gas-jet and shaved. If you were not well enough, you sat
+in your dressing-gown on a chair. You were not allowed to sit on your
+bed. At 8 a.m. you were given an extraordinarily bad breakfast--porridge
+with no milk, tea with no sugar, bread with--most days--no butter. (p. 060)
+After breakfast you could go to bed again, but this was not allowed if
+you were going to be let out during the day, as I was most of the
+time. So there you sat again, freezing, till an orderly came and said
+your bath was ready, usually about 9.30 a.m.--three hours after you
+had left your bed. The bath was in an outhouse about fifty yards
+across the yard from the ward. In hail, rain or snow, you had got to
+go there. In it I was boiled in a bath, scrubbed all over with a
+nail-brush, and then smothered all over with sulphur--wet, greasy,
+stinking sulphur rubbed in all over me. I dressed by putting on a pair
+of pyjamas first. These more or less kept this grease from getting
+through to my other clothes, and I was allowed out to work--a sick,
+freezing, wet individual. But my room at the "Hotel de la Paix" was
+warm, and I sat over my "Flamme Bleue" all the morning. After I had
+been treated with sulphur for "scabies" a couple of weeks, a hole came
+in my throat just like the one I had on my foot--a white hole with a
+black band round it, and all the flesh for about six inches beyond it
+a deep scarlet. One morning the boy who washed me said: "I beg your
+pardon, sir, but what are you being treated for?" "Scabies," said I.
+Said he: "Don't say I said so, sir, but show the M.O. that thing on
+your neck. You haven't got scabies, and this sulphur will kill you
+soon." So I waited for the M.O. till he did his rounds. When he came
+to me he said the usual, "Everything all right with you?" "No," said
+I. "I've got a scabie on my neck that is worrying me." So he had a
+look at it and said: "I don't think this treatment is doing you much
+good. I shall get you dismissed from the hospital to-day." So I was
+chucked out. I happened to have blood-poisoning, not scabies, and I (p. 061)
+have it still. During the time I was in hospital, I got four very
+amusing poems from a General at G.H.Q. They were the bright spots
+during those days. I am sorry they are too personal to print.
+
+[Illustration: XXV. _A Death among the Wounded in the Snow._]
+
+About this time an officer told me a good story about my friend,
+Carroll Carstairs. The Cambrai battle was on, and the Grenadier Guards
+were advancing through a village. Carroll was with a brother officer,
+and said suddenly, "Look at the shape of that church now! Isn't it
+magnificent?" Another shell shrieked and hit the structure, and he
+said, "Damn! the fools have spoilt it." I believe it was during this
+battle he earned the M.C.
+
+My brother became very popular with those he met in France. Too
+popular, indeed, with the girls in the hotel at Amiens to please Maude
+or myself. Maude and I used to complain about it. Maude would say,
+"William, here you and I have been slaving for months to make
+ourselves liked by these girls, and your blinking little brother comes
+along, and cuts us out in a few days. It's disgusting." It was true:
+Maude, the A.P.M., and I, "le petit Major," took a back seat. We
+worked hard to prevent it, my brother did nothing: he kept silent,
+laughed, and won. It was very sad, and we were much upset.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX (p. 062)
+
+WINTER (1917-1918)
+
+
+Christmas came with much snow and ice. Maude and I went to dinner at
+Captain MacColl's mess in the Boulevard Belfort. Maude remarked once,
+"MacColl is the only intelligent Intelligence Officer I know." We had
+a great dinner, and at 10 p.m. Maude and I went, in a blinding
+snowstorm, to the police concert. I'll never forget the fug in that
+place: it reeked of sweat, drink, goose and fags. They were all very
+happy, these huge men; all singing the saddest songs they could think
+of, including, of course, "The Long, Long Trail." American police were
+there also. They had come to Amiens to learn their job. We left late,
+but we had promised to return to MacColl's mess, so started for there,
+but after we had fallen in the snow a few times, we gave the idea up
+and went to bed.
+
+About this time I went to H.Q. Tanks, and painted the General and
+Hotblack, and had a most interesting time. General Elles was a great
+chap, full of "go," and a tremendous worker. Hotblack, mild and
+gentle, full of charm; one could hardly imagine he had all those
+D.S.O.'s, and wound stripes--Hotblack, who liked to go for a walk and
+sit down and read poetry. He said it took his mind off devising plans
+to kill people better than anything else.
+
+Then there was the "Colonel" of the Tanks--"Napoleon," they called
+him. A great brain he had. Before the war he knew his Chelsea well,
+and the Cafe Royal and all the set who went there. And there was a (p. 063)
+dear young Highlander also, a most gentle, shy youth. He was very
+happy one day; he had a "topping" time. He was out with the Tanks, and
+he killed a German despatch-rider and rode home on his bicycle.
+
+[Illustration: XXVI. _Some Members of the Allied Press Camp._]
+
+One morning when I was painting the General, he told me that my old
+"Colonel" from G.H.Q. was coming to lunch. I hadn't seen him since he
+sent the telegram, "When do you return?" When he arrived we were all
+in the hall, but he didn't take the slightest notice of me. Presently,
+we went in to lunch. He sat opposite to me, and about halfway through
+the meal, he said, "Hello, Orpen! I didn't see you before." To which I
+replied, "You have the advantage over me, sir. I don't remember ever
+having seen you before." It was no good. We would never have made good
+friends.
+
+I regret that one night, while I was staying at G.H.Q. Tanks, I got
+"blotto." It wasn't altogether my fault, people were so hospitable. It
+was a night when I dined with General Sir John Davidson, "the Poet,"
+at G.H.Q. I left "Tanks" on a bitterly cold, wet evening, and called
+at the Canadian chateau at Hesdin. I found them all sitting round a
+big fire. It was tea-time. The Colonel, who saw I was cold, gave me a
+whisky-and-soda, which he repeated when I left. I then went on to the
+C.-in-C.'s chateau to see Major Sir Philip Sassoon, and found him in
+his hut outside the chateau. As soon as I sat down he rang his bell.
+The orderly came. "A whisky-and-soda for Major Orpen," said he. This
+came. When I had got through about half of it, his telephone rang.
+"Run upstairs, Orp," said he, "and see Allan (Colonel Fletcher), he's
+laid up in bed." So off I went and found his bedroom. As soon as I (p. 064)
+came in he rang his bell. His servant came. "Whisky-and-soda," said
+he. When I was about halfway through this, there were footsteps on the
+stairs. "That's the Chief coming," said the Colonel. "Gosh!" said I,
+and I pushed my whisky-and-soda well under the bed. In came the
+C.-in-C. "Hello, little man!" said he, "you look cold; and they don't
+seem to be very hospitable to you here, either." He rang the bell. The
+orderly came. "Bring Major Orpen a whisky-and-soda," said he. That did
+it. He talked for about ten minutes, and left. And in came Philip with
+my half-finished drink, cursing. "I've been standing on those damned
+stairs with Orp's drink for the last half-hour waiting for the Chief
+to leave." So, of course, I had to finish it. And then the Colonel's.
+And I went off to General Davidson's, and he had a nice cocktail ready
+for me, and a good "bottle" for dinner--after which I do not remember
+anything. But it was a bit of bad luck, one thing happening after
+another like that.
+
+When I went back to Amiens I saw a good bit of the Press. The "Major"
+had gone, and Captain Hale of the Black Watch had charge. A fine
+fellow, Hale, as brave as a lion. He told endless stories, which one
+could hardly ever understand, and he laughed at them so much himself
+that he usually forgot to finish them. Rudolf de Trafford was there,
+and old Inge, a much-travelled man; also Macintosh, a Parisian Scot.
+It was very peaceful; no one dreamt that shells were soon to come
+crashing through that old chateau. Ernest Courage, with his eyeglass
+fixed in his cap, used to come into Amiens and finish lunch with his
+usual toast, and then sing Vesta Tilly's great old song:--
+
+ "Jolly good luck to the girl who loves a soldier. (p. 065)
+ Girls, have you been there?
+ You know we military men
+ Always do our duty everywhere!
+
+ "Jolly good luck to the girl who loves a soldier.
+ Real fine boys are we!
+ Girls, if you want to love a soldier
+ You can all (diddley-dum) love me!"
+
+and very well he did it.
+
+[Illustration: XXVII. _Poilu and Tommy._]
+
+General Seely asked Maude and myself to dine one night at the "Rhin."
+Prince Antoine of Bourbon was there--he was Seely's A.D.C. During
+dinner I arranged to go to the Canadian Cavalry H.Q. and paint Seely,
+which I did, and had a most interesting time. Munnings was painting
+Prince Antoine at this period, on horseback. He used to make the poor
+Prince sit all day, circumnavigating the chateau as the sun went
+round. I remember going out one morning and seeing the Prince sitting
+upon his horse, as good as gold. Munnings was chewing a straw when I
+came up to them. "Here," said he. "You're just the fellow I want. What
+colour is that reflected light under the horse's belly?" "Very warm
+yellow," said I. "There! I told you so," said he to the Prince.
+Apparently there had been some argument over the matter. Anyway, he
+mixed a full brush of warm yellow and laid it on. Just before lunch I
+came out again. There they were in another spot. "Hey!" said Munnings,
+"come here. What colour is the reflection now?" "Bright violet," said
+I. "There! what did I tell you?" said he to the Prince; and he mixed a
+brush-load of bright violet, and laid it on.
+
+As the sun was sinking I went out again, and there was the poor
+Prince, still in the saddle. Munnings had nearly as much paint on (p. 066)
+himself as on the canvas. He was very excited. I could see him
+gesticulating from a distance. When he saw me he called out: "Come
+here quickly before the light goes. What colour is the reflection on
+the horse's belly now?" "Bright green," said I. "It is," said he, "and
+the Prince won't believe me." And he quickly made a heap of bright
+green and plastered it over the bright yellow and bright violet
+reflections of the morning and midday. So ended the day's work, and
+the bright green remained in full view till the next sitting.
+
+The day I arrived Munnings was much upset because he had no sable
+brushes. He was telling me about this, and said, "Do you mind my
+asking you three questions?" "Not at all," said I. "First," he said,
+"have you got a car?" "Yes," said I. "Second," said he, "have you got
+any sable brushes?" "Yes," said I. "Third," said he, "will you lend me
+some?" "Yes," said I, and handed him over all I had. When I was
+leaving I said to Munnings, "What about those sable brushes,
+Munnings?" He replied: "Don't you remember I asked you three
+questions?" "I do remember your asking me something," said I. "Well,"
+said he, "the first question I asked was, 'Have you got a car?'" "What
+the hell has that got to do with my sable brushes?" said I. "A great
+lot," said he. "You can damn well drive to Paris and get some more for
+yourself. I haven't a car."
+
+About a week later I painted the Prince. He was a most devoted A.D.C.
+to the General. It was very sad his getting killed afterwards.
+
+[Illustration: XXVIII. _Major-General the Rt. Hon. J. E. B. Seely,
+C.B., etc._]
+
+[Illustration: XXIX. _Bombing: Night._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X (p. 067)
+
+LONDON (MARCH-JUNE 1918)
+
+
+I was now ordered back to London--I forget what for, something about
+expenses, I think. Lord Beaverbrook had become my boss, and they were
+going to pay all my expenses. It was a nice thought, but they never
+did.
+
+I went with my brother up to G.H.Q. on March 20th to get warrants from
+Major A. N. Lee, D.S.O., and went on to Boulogne, and there met Ian
+Strang, who dined with us at the "Morny." There was a raid on when we
+came out from dinner, and people wished us to take shelter; but we had
+dined very well. The next morning there was a thick mist low down,
+with a clear sky above. When I got on the boat I met General Seely,
+who introduced me to General Sir Arthur Currie, who said: "You used to
+billet at St. Pol, usedn't you?" "Yes, sir," said I. "Well," said he,
+"I have just come through it. They got seven fourteen-inch shells into
+it this morning." "Has the offensive started?" said I. "That's about
+it," said he.
+
+London seemed very strange to me at first. I felt very out of things.
+
+Nobody I met, except the soldiers, or those who had been to France
+like myself, seemed to have any thoughts in common with mine: they did
+not appear to want to think about the fighting man or of the colossal
+deeds that were being done daily and nightly on the several fronts.
+No, they all talked of their own war-work. Overworked they were, (p. 068)
+breaking up--some at munitions; some at shoemaking classes; others
+darning socks--and they were all suffering terribly from air raids. In
+fact, to put it in a few words, they were well in the middle of the
+world war; they were just the same as the fighting man in France or on
+some other front.
+
+Then it was that the definite thought came to me: the fighting man,
+the Hero, will be forgotten; that the people of England who have not
+been "overseas" and seen them at work, would never realise what these
+men have been through--win or lose, they would never know.
+
+Their constant talk was of the terrible things they at home were going
+through on air-raid nights. It hurt me--their complaining about their
+little chances of damage, when I knew that millions of men were
+running a big risk of being blown into eternity at any moment, day or
+night. It is true, my first visit home made me realise that the
+fighting man after the war would be ignored, and I knew the
+reason--"Jealousy." I had been given the chance of looking on, and I
+had seen and worshipped. But if I had not seen, I might have felt just
+the same as those who stayed at home. Jealousy is one of the strongest
+things the human mind has to struggle against. Even now, after joint
+victory, it is one of the things the Allied nations have to guard
+against, for it exists between them, but surely the bond of the dead,
+that great community:--
+
+ "The Chosen Few,
+ The very brave,
+ The very true,"
+
+French, British, Belgian, Italian, Portuguese and American, surely (p. 069)
+they should be enough to hold us together in love and respect, without
+jealousy, or any envy, hatred or malice in our hearts!
+
+It was decided that an exhibition of my stuff should be held, so
+photographs had to be taken of each little thing, a title given to
+each, and the whole bunch sent to G.H.Q. for Major Lee to censor,
+which he did, refusing to pass nearly all of them. But General
+MacDonough, however, squashed all that. Then one of my titles got me
+into trouble. My first "Colonel's" set had been waiting all the year
+to get something against me, and now they worked up a molehill to a
+mountain. I had to go constantly to the War Office, and I was talked
+to very severely. In fact, I was in black disgrace. My behaviour could
+not have been worse, according to Intelligence (F), or whatever they
+were then called at G.H.Q.
+
+I was lunching with Maurice Baring at the "Ritz" one day, and he told
+me McCudden was in London. I said I would like him to sit. "Well,
+write and ask him," said Baring. "But," said I, "I don't know him."
+"Right," said Baring, "I'll write to him." The thing was arranged, and
+one morning I heard a cheery voice below and someone came bounding
+upstairs, and before I saw him he shouted: "Hello, Orps! Have you a
+ping-pong table here?" He was the little unknown boy at the 56th
+Squadron with whom I used to play ping-pong only a few months before.
+Now he was the great hero, Major McCudden, V.C., D.S.O., etc., and
+well he wore his honours, and, like all great people, sat like a lamb.
+
+The news one got in those days was terrible--one could not realise
+it--it seemed utterly impossible. Peronne taken! Bapaume taken! The (p. 070)
+Huns were back over the old Somme battlefields; they had taken
+Pozieres; the great American stores there had gone; they were back
+over the great mine of La Boisselle. Terrible! And the golden Virgin
+had fallen from the Cathedral tower, and one remembered the old
+prophecy, "When the Virgin of Albert falls from her tower the end of
+the war is at hand," and now she was down in the dirt of the street.
+Did it mean defeat? Amiens was being shelled, the Boche swarmed on the
+heights of Villers-Bretonneux, and they could see clearly that great
+landmark of Picardy, Amiens Cathedral.
+
+The railroad from the North to Paris was smashed, and they very nearly
+destroyed the great railway bridge near Etaples--great masses of
+masonry were blown out of it--everything was bombed right back to the
+sea. Then the Huns turned South. On they rushed--Montdidier shelled,
+Clermont in danger, on they went to Soissons and Chateau Thierry. One
+Sunday news came to the War Office that Paris had been bombed all day.
+A few minutes later this was corrected to "Paris has been shelled all
+day." It was awful! unbelievable! Paris shelled! Where had the Huns
+got to? Was the prophecy true of the Virgin falling from her tower?
+Were the Allies beaten? All the towns in Germany were ringing their
+victory bells, and we had our backs to the sea. It was a black period.
+
+The afternoon my exhibition opened, they sent a message for me to go
+to the War Office immediately. There a Colonel showed me a minute from
+Intelligence (F), G.H.Q. My former Colonel's followers had really put
+their backs into it this time. They got me fairly and squarely. The
+_Daily Express_ (I think it was Lord Beaverbrook's little joke)
+published a supposed interview with me in which I laughed long and (p. 071)
+loud at "the Censor fellow." This, of course, I had never done, but
+there it was in print. Intelligence (F) saw it and sent it to the W.O.
+with the minute. I don't remember the exact words, but the gist of it
+was this: "That Major Orpen's behaviour had been such that they
+thought it undesirable that he should be allowed to set foot in France
+again under any circumstances until the war was terminated." I asked
+the Colonel what I could do. He said sternly: "Nothing." I asked him
+if I might have the minute for half an hour. He said: "No," and then
+"Yes," so I took it away to another and higher office. Here its career
+ended in the waste-paper basket. I went back to the Colonel, and said:
+"I regret, sir, I cannot return the minute, it has been destroyed."
+The expression on his face was priceless, and it gave me the only
+pleasure I had that day.
+
+[Illustration: XXX. _Major J. B. McCudden, V.C., D.S.O., etc._]
+
+Shortly afterwards I lunched at a house--a large party, including two
+Generals. One sitting near me was telling a lady that he and the other
+General were going to G.H.Q. the next morning for two days. I said:
+"Sir, don't you want an extra batman with you?" He said: "Have you any
+business you want to go to France for?" "Yes, sir," said I, "I have a
+lot of my stuff moved to Boulogne from Amiens, and I want to see to
+it." He said: "All right, telephone to ---- at the War House and he
+will have your warrant ready and will get your seat for to-morrow
+morning." Gee! I was excited when I left that lunch, and darted back
+to my studio and telephoned to the War Office. Everything was arranged.
+They even telephoned Intelligence (F) that my car was to meet me at
+Boulogne. That must have been a nasty knock for Intelligence (F), but
+my faithful Howlett was there with the car when I got off the boat. We
+went and had lunch at the "Morny," and I saw my stuff was quite safe (p. 072)
+at the "Windsor Hotel," then I motored off to St. Valery-sur-Somme and
+visited the Allied Press Chateau (Captain Rudolf de Trafford was now
+the Chief of the Allied Press, Captain Hale having gone back to his
+regiment, the Black Watch), and arranged with them that I could get a
+billet there if I could manage to break down the opposition at
+Intelligence (F). Then I motored back to the Ecole Militaire at
+Montreuil, where I was to meet General Sir John Davidson, who was
+giving me dinner and putting me up. After dinner he had to go and see
+the Chief at his chateau, and he asked me to go with him. The
+C.-in-C., as usual, was more than kind, and asked me to dinner the
+next night. Then I got a bright thought and I asked his A.D.C.,
+Colonel Fletcher, if he would be so kind as to do me a real good turn.
+He said: "Certainly." So I explained that I wanted him to ring me up
+at "Bumpherie" (H.Q. Intelligence (F)) at 10 o'clock the next morning,
+and say the C.-in-C. wanted to know would I dine with him. At 9.15
+a.m. the next morning I got down to the little wooden huts which were
+H.Q. Intelligence (F). There I saw, through the windows in the
+passage, the two Colonels and Major Lee talking. They saw me all
+right, but pretended not to, so I walked up and down till a few
+minutes after 10 a.m., when out came the Major. "Hello, Orpen! is that
+you? I didn't know you were here." I said cheerfully: "Oh yes, I've
+been here quite a long time. How are you, old bean? Lovely morning,
+isn't it?" He said: "Look here, a telephone message has just come
+through from the C.-in-C. He wants to know if you will dine with him
+to-night." I said: "A telephone message from the C.-in-C. to me! But
+why did you come out here?" He said: "To tell you, of course." "But,"
+I said, "you didn't know I was here!" He said: "Answer 'Yes' or (p. 073)
+'No.'" "Oh," I said, "answer 'Yes.' I want to fix up with him what
+date I am coming back to France to work."
+
+[Illustration: XXXI. _The Refugee._]
+
+That did the trick. Intelligence (F) saw they were beaten. No more
+opposition! Perfect harmony was established. I at once became "Orps."
+Drinks were offered, lunches, dinners--any old thing that could be
+done was "a pleasure."
+
+The dinner at the Chief's was most interesting. Some American Generals
+were there, and I learnt a lot about how things were going on, and
+returned to London the next day, and started making arrangements to go
+back and work in France again.
+
+About this time I received the following from France:--
+
+ "Dear Woppy, I am glad that you
+ Will soon be back at G.H.Q.,
+ With brushes, paint and turpentine,
+ And canvases fourteen by nine,
+ To paint the British soldier man
+ As often as you may and can.
+ The brave ally, the captive Boche,
+ And Monsieur Clemenceau and Foch;
+ But, on the whole, you'd better not
+ Paint lady spies before they're shot.
+ We're living in the Eastern zone,
+ Between the ----, the ----, the ----
+ (The orders of Sir Douglas Haig
+ Compel me, Woppy, to be vague.)
+ But you can find out where we are
+ And come there in a motor-car.
+ We hold a chateau on a hill
+ . . . . . . . (Censored)
+ A pond with carp, a stream with brill,
+ And perch and trout await your skill.
+ A garden with umbrageous trees
+ Is here for you to take your ease.
+ And strawberries, both red and white, (p. 074)
+ Are there to soothe your appetite;
+ And, just the very thing for you,
+ Sweet landscape and a lovely view.
+ So pack your box and come along
+ And take a ticket for Boulogne.
+ The General is calling me.
+ Yours, till we meet again,
+
+ "M. B."
+
+[Illustration: XXXII. _Lieut.-Colonel A. N. Lee, D.S.O., etc._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI (p. 075)
+
+BACK IN FRANCE (JULY-SEPTEMBER 1918)
+
+
+Early in July I returned to France. My brother had now left me, and
+was doing regular Army work, and I brought Dudley Forsyth over with
+me. We stayed in Boulogne a few days till our billets were fixed at
+St. Valery, and during this time I painted a portrait at "Bumpherie"
+of Lee, who had then become the boss of Intelligence (F) Section and
+was Colonel A. N. Lee, D.S.O. Things had changed. "The stream of
+goodwill, it would turn a mill" at "Bumpherie." "Dear old
+Orps"--nothing was too good for him. "Do you think you could put in a
+word for me to ----?" "If ---- speaks of the matter to you, just
+mention my name." Oh yes, the Colonel was really my friend now, and
+all the underlings appealed to me--and a good friend he has been ever
+since. Dear old Tuppenny Lee; I hope he'll forgive me writing all
+this, but he was a bit tough on me that first year, and he knows it
+jolly well, but he has more than made up for it since by a long chalk.
+There was only one wrong note in the harmony at "Bumpherie" then, and
+that was a "Colonel" with a large head and weak legs. He never forgave
+me--he wasn't that sort of fellow.
+
+St. Valery-sur-Somme is a very pleasant little town at the mouth of
+the river, and the Allied Press held a nice chateau with a lovely
+garden. When things were quiet they used to have musical evenings,
+when Captain Douglas would sing most charmingly, and Captain Holland (p. 076)
+would play the fool well. Poor Theo! The Boche were at it hard now,
+and they were bombing all round every night. One night my window and
+wooden shutters were blown in--four bombs came down quite close. The
+roar of their falling was terrific. I remember well, after the second
+had burst, finding myself trying to jamb my head under my bed, but
+there wasn't room. I was scared stiff.
+
+Soon after this great things happened. The whole world changed--the
+air became more exhilarating, birds seemed to sing happier songs, and
+men walked with a lighter step. One great thing happened quickly after
+another. Ludendorff's black day arrived, and the Boche were driven off
+the heights of Villers-Bretonneux, and they lost sight of Amiens
+Cathedral. One day news came that the French had attacked all along
+the line from Chateau Thierry to Soissons, and had taken four thousand
+prisoners! It was all wonderful! Any day on the roads then one passed
+thousands of field-grey prisoners--long lines of weary, beaten men.
+They had none of the arrogance of the early prisoners, who were all
+sure Germany would win, and showed their thoughts clearly. No, these
+men were beaten and knew it, and they had not the spirit left even to
+try and hide their feelings.
+
+That great French song, "La Madelon de la Victoire," connecting the
+names of Foch and Clemenceau, was sung with joy, and yet, when sung,
+tears were never far away--tears of thankfulness! Many have I seen
+pour down the cheeks of great, strong, brave men at the sound of that
+song and the tramp of the sky-blue poilus coming along in the glare
+and dust.
+
+Forsyth had a song which became very popular about this time. The
+chorus ran:--
+
+ "Mary Ann is after me, (p. 077)
+ Full of love she seems to be;
+ My mother says, it's clear to see
+ She wants me for her young man.
+ Father says, 'If that be true,
+ John, my boy, be thankful, do;
+ There's one bigger bloody fool in the world than you--
+ That's Mary Ann.'"
+
+[Illustration: XXXIII. _Marshal Foch, O.M._]
+
+In August I went down South to paint Marshal Foch at Bon Bon. General
+Sir John Du Cane kindly put me up at the British Mission, which was
+quite close to the Marshal's chateau, and I had a most interesting
+week. The morning after I arrived, General Grant brought me over to
+the Marshal's H.Q., a nice old place. We were shown into a
+waiting-room, and in a couple of minutes General Weygand (Chief of
+Staff) came in, a quiet, gentle, good-looking little man. It was
+impossible to imagine him carrying the weight of responsibility he had
+at that time. He was perfectly calm, and most courteous, and after
+talking to General Grant for a few minutes, brought us in to the
+Marshal. And there was the great little man, deep in the study of his
+maps, very calm, very quiet. He would certainly sit. How long did I
+want him for? An hour and a half each day, for four or five days?
+Certainly. When did I wish to start? The next day? Certainly. He would
+sit from 7 a.m. to 8.30 a.m. for as many mornings as I wished. Might
+he smoke while he sat? Yes! Bon! Would I go and look out what room
+would suit me to work in? Any room I liked except the one I was in
+with the maps. I fixed up a little library to work in--a long, narrow,
+dark little place, but with a good light by the window. I got up very
+early the next morning and arrived there about 6.15 a.m., and as
+nobody seemed to be about, I walked in, and as the only way I knew (p. 078)
+how to get to the library was through the room with the maps, I opened
+its door, and there he was, deep in study. He got up, shook hands, and
+said he would be with me at 7 a.m. In he came at 7 a.m., very quietly,
+and sat like a lamb, except that his pipe upset him. It seemed that
+some of his English friends thought he was smoking too many cigars,
+and they had given him a pipe and tobacco, and asked him to try and
+smoke it instead. But up to that date the Marshal was not a star at
+pipe-smoking. He could light it all right, but after about two minutes
+it would begin to make strange gurgling noises, which grew louder and
+louder, till it went out. The next day I brought some feathers and
+cotton wool, and the Marshal looked on me as a sort of hero, because
+each time we rested I used to clean out the pipe and dry it.
+
+During all the time he was sitting great battles were going on and the
+Germans were being driven back. News was brought to him about every
+ten minutes. If it was good, he would say "Bon!" If it was bad, he
+just made a strange noise by forcing air out through his lips. During
+that time the Americans were having their first big "do," and I
+remember he was very upset at the Boche getting out of the St. Mihiel
+pocket in the way they did, without being caught.
+
+I remember one morning (the Marshal did not know I understood any
+French at all) a General came in and sat with him, and the Marshal,
+very quietly, gave him times, dates, places where battles would be
+fought up to the end of December 1918, naming the French, British and
+American Divisions, and so forth, which would be used in each. When I
+got back to the Mission, I wrote down some dates and places I
+remembered, but told no one, and, as far as I could judge, everything
+went exactly as he said it would till about the middle of October, (p. 079)
+when the Boche really got on the run. Then things went quicker than he
+expected.
+
+[Illustration: XXXIV. _A German 'Plane Passing St. Denis._]
+
+It seemed amazing, the calmness of that old chateau at Bon Bon, yet
+wires from that old country house were conveying messages of blood and
+hell to millions of men. What must the little man have felt? The
+responsibility of it all--hidden in the brain behind those kind,
+thoughtful eyes. Apparently, his only worry was "Ma pipe." His face
+would wrinkle up in anger over that. That, and if anyone was late for
+a meal. Otherwise he appeared to me to be the most mentally calm and
+complete thing I had ever come across. I would have liked to have
+painted him standing by his great maps, thinking, thinking for hours
+and hours. Yes, the three memories I brought away from Bon Bon were
+maps, calmness, and a certainty that the Allies would be victorious.
+
+While I was there General Grant brought me over to Vaux. What a hall!
+Surely the most beautiful thing of a private nature in existence, with
+its blue dome and black eagle at the top.
+
+I left one evening and stopped in Paris that night. There were two air
+raids, and in the morning I heard Big Bertha for the first time, and
+when we left about 10 o'clock, just past St. Denis, a Boche 'plane
+came over to see where the shells were falling.
+
+There was a wonderful service in the Cathedral at Amiens one morning,
+the first since the bombardment, a thanksgiving for the deliverance of
+the city from shell-fire. The Boche had been driven further back and
+the old city was out of shell-range and at peace. It was a lovely
+morning with a strong breeze, a little sixteenth-century Virgin had
+been rescued from Albert Cathedral, and it was set up on a pedestal
+in the middle of the chancel. There was a guard of honour of (p. 080)
+Australians; birds were flying about above and singing; they had made
+the interior of the Cathedral their own. Bits of glass kept falling
+down, and the wind made strange whistling noises through the smashed
+and battered windows. It was all very impressive. General Rawlinson
+and his staff came over from Bertangles, a few natives of Amiens came
+into the town for it, otherwise the whole congregation was British. It
+was strange! Australian bugles blaring away inside those walls!
+
+I painted Maude and Colonel du Tyl, the brave defenders of the
+interior of the city during the bombardment, in Maude's cellar in the
+"Hotel de Ville." General Rogers (then Colonel Rogers) used to come in
+constantly--a charming man, very calm, with a great sense of humour,
+and as brave as a lion. His little brother was working under Maude. At
+that time his little brother was very silent--one could not get a word
+out of him. Maude used to call him "my little ray of sunshine." Now he
+is as cheerful a "Bean" as you could wish to find.
+
+The day the Boche were driven out of Albert, General Rogers went there
+and brought back the story of the cat. When the Tommies got into the
+town, even through the din, they heard the wailing of a cat in agony,
+and they found her crucified on a door, so they naturally went to take
+her down, but as they were pulling the first nail out, it exploded a
+bomb and many were killed. It was a dirty trick! Yet they who did it
+may be sitting beside me now in the little Parisian cafe in which I
+write--it is full of Boche. It's a strange thought, almost beyond
+understanding.
+
+The light in Maude's cellar was most interesting to paint, and I'm
+afraid I spent far too long at it, but Maude was a good companion.
+Things were changing now daily. Instead of feeling the sea just (p. 081)
+behind one's back, so to speak, each day, it was getting further
+and further away, and there were fresh fields to explore. I was due
+officially to leave for Italy, but I couldn't go. Why leave France
+when wonder after wonder was happening? Hardly a day passed that some
+glorious news did not come in. No, I couldn't tear myself away from
+Picardy and the North. I felt that I would feel more out of it in
+Italy than in London, and now I know I was right. I did not do much in
+the way of my own work, but I saw and felt things I would never have
+got down South--things which were felt so much that their impression
+increases rather than diminishes. It is difficult at times to realise
+what is happening. Somehow other things keep one from realisation at
+the moment, but afterwards these other things diminish in importance
+and the real impression becomes more clearly defined.
+
+[Illustration: XXXV. _British and French A.P.M.'s Amiens._]
+
+I painted General Lord Rawlinson at Bertangles, which was then his
+headquarters, a charming man with a face full of character. He paints
+himself, and was good enough to take great interest in the sketch I
+painted of him. He had a mirror put up so that he could see what I was
+doing. This wasn't altogether a help to me, because, at times, perhaps
+when I was painting the half-light on his nose, he would say: "What
+colours did you mix for that?" By the time I had tried to think out
+what colours I had mixed--most probably not having the slightest
+idea--I would have forgotten what part of the head I was painting and
+what brush I was using. But Bertangles in August was lovely, and the
+lunches in the tent, even though full of wasps, were excellent.
+Certainly H.Q. 4th Army was well run.
+
+A little later the H.Q. 4th Army moved to the devastated country close
+to Villers Carbonelle on the Peronne side. It was a wonderful bit of (p. 082)
+camouflage work. This great H.Q. just looked like an undulating bit of
+country even when right up beside it. I remember standing in the
+middle of it one frosty moonlight night, and it was impossible to
+believe that there were hundreds of human beings all around me there
+in the middle of that abomination of desolation.
+
+I also painted Brigadier-General Dame Vaughan Williams of the
+Q.M.W.A.A.C.'s at her H.Q., St. Valery--a strong-minded, gentle,
+earnest worker, much loved by those under her. She held a chateau in a
+large garden and held it well. The mess was excellent.
+
+Some civilians had now come back to Amiens, and it was possible to get
+a room in the "Hotel de la Paix," so I left St. Valery and came to
+live there. This hotel escaped better than any other house in Amiens
+from the shells and bombs. The glass was, of course, broken, and
+slates knocked off, but that was all, except where little bits had
+been knocked out of the walls by shrapnel. It was wonderful to be
+there and watch the town coming to life again week by week.
+
+After a time the Allied Press came and patched up their chateau, or
+parts of it. Some of the correspondents slept there and some got
+billets outside. Shops began to open. The _Daily Mail_ came once more,
+and gradually the streets filled with people, these streets, the
+pavements of which were now more hostile than ever. Even a few of the
+girls came and settled there--"early birds."
+
+That sweet, natural woman, Sister Rose, had remained in Amiens all
+through the bombardment, and when the people began returning, she was
+asked one day: "Are not you pleased, Sister Rose, to have the people
+round you again?" To which she replied: "Yes, of course I am in some
+ways, but I loved the bombardment. I felt the whole city was mine, (p. 083)
+each street became very intimate, and I could walk through them and
+pray out loud to my God in peace. But now! why, if I prayed to my God
+in the streets of Amiens they would think me a damned lunatic!" I can
+understand her very human feeling at that time--people who had run
+away from the city in its agony returned when its tribulation was
+over, and claimed it as their own again when the calm of evening had
+come; while she, Sister Rose, had borne the burden and heat of the
+day. But this feeling soon left her, and she worked whole-heartedly
+once more to succour the poor in distress in the city she loved so
+well.
+
+[Illustration: XXXVI. _General Lord Rawlinson, Bart., G.C.B., etc._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII (p. 084)
+
+AMIENS (OCTOBER 1918)
+
+
+The nights were very black, there being no lights in the streets at
+all.
+
+A little later Maude left his billet on the Abbeville Road, and came
+to live with me in the "Hotel de la Paix." One night we were dining
+there, and at about 8.45 p.m. a young Flying Officer left a friend and
+came and asked Maude if we would come to their table and have a drink
+with them. Maude said Yes, and the lad went back to his table. "Who is
+your friend?" said I. "I don't know," Maude replied. "They asked me
+for ten minutes' extension of time last night, and I gave it to them."
+Presently we went over to their table and they ordered a round of the
+deadly brandy of the hotel. Maude introduced me as Major Sir William
+Orpen, and I learnt that their names were Tom and Fred. After a couple
+of minutes Tom wanted to ask me something, and he started off this
+way: "By the way, Sir William----" "A little less of your damned Sir
+William!" said I. "All right," said he, "don't get huffy about it,
+bloody old Bill." So naturally we all became friends, and we mounted
+the stairs to my room, and the bar was opened and Tom recited. Fred
+insisted on it. "But," said Tom, "you always cry, Fred, when I
+recite." "It doesn't matter, Tom," said Fred, "I like it." So Tom
+recited and Fred cried, and Maude and I looked on and wondered and (p. 085)
+drank "Spots." They left about 11 o'clock to drive back to the
+aerodrome in an old ambulance they had in the yard. At about 7 a.m.
+the next morning I was awakened by a violent knocking at my door, so I
+shouted: "Come in," and in came Tom and Fred. They both walked over
+and sat on my bed. "What on earth are you here at this hour of the
+morning for?" I asked. "That's just what we've come here to find out,
+bloody old Bill," said Tom. "Are you hurt, Bill?" "No," said I. "Why?"
+"No furniture broken, no damage done to the room, Bill?" "No," said I.
+"Why?" "Well, look here, Bill, it's like this," said Tom. "Fred and I
+are puzzled as to exactly what happened. Fred, tell him what happened
+to you, and then I'll tell him about myself."
+
+Fred rubbed his chin and started: "Well, Bill, the first thing I
+remember was that I found myself walking along a country road, and I
+met a M.P. man. Said I: 'Can you please direct me to the Gare du
+Nord?' 'Straight on,' said he, 'and you'll find it on your left. It's
+about a twenty-minute walk.' So I went straight on, and sure enough I
+came to the Gare du Nord, and I came on here and found Tom juggling
+with the wheel of the old ambulance with its radiator against the
+wall." "Yes," said Tom, "and look here, bloody old Bill, I had spent
+half the night juggling with death with that wheel--thank goodness the
+engine wasn't going. Then Fred woke me up. What do you make of it all,
+Bill?" I couldn't make anything of it, so I dressed and we had
+breakfast and they went off to their aerodrome in the Somme mud.
+
+After this we became great friends and we had many happy evenings, (p. 086)
+in some of which Tom looked for a "spot of bother," and Fred warned
+him "it was a bad show." On "good nights for the troops," which meant
+that the weather was impossible for bombing (they were night-bombers),
+they would come into Amiens for dinner. These nights were "not devoid
+of attraction," and on the "bad nights for the troops" I would often
+dine at the aerodrome and see the raiders off. It was uncanny, these
+great birds starting off into the blackness--to what?
+
+Tom and Fred lived together in a little hut in the Somme mud, off the
+Peronne Road, which they called "Virtue Villa," and when I worked
+anywhere away up this old East-West Road, I never could resist
+visiting "Virtue Villa" on the way back. "Virtue Villa" with its
+blazing stove, its two bunks--Tom's below, Fred's upstairs--its
+photographs (especially the one of Fred with the M.C. smile), the
+biscuit-box seats and the good glasses of whisky--truly "Virtue
+Villa," with its Tom and Fred, was not "devoid of attraction" on a
+cold October evening, with the rain splashing on the water in the old
+Somme shell-holes.
+
+They were a great couple and devoted to each other. One could not eat,
+drink or be merry without the other, yet they were completely
+different. Fred was a calm, thoughtful English boy, very much in love
+and longing to get married; but Tom was just a heap of fun, a man who
+had travelled to many corners of the earth, but at heart was still a
+romping school-boy.
+
+About this time George Hoidge's squadron came to a place near Albert,
+and I had the pleasure of seeing Colonel Bloomfield there again, still
+as hearty and full of fire as ever. He was going to sit, but things
+began to happen too quickly then, and I never got a chance of (p. 087)
+painting him.
+
+[Illustration: XXXVII. _Albert._]
+
+Some weeks later, Hoidge came in and said: "I have bad news for you,
+Orps. Tom and Fred have gone West." It was bad news. Tom and Fred, two
+gallant hearts, dead! I was told afterwards how it happened. One of
+the last days of the fighting, Fred went out to test his machine with
+his mechanic. He taxied off down the aerodrome, which was a huge old
+Boche one that his squadron had moved forward to. As he was taxi-ing
+he hit a Boche booby trap, planted in the ground, and up went the
+machine and fell in flames. The mechanic was thrown clear, but not
+Fred. Poor Tom saw it all from the door of "Virtue Villa." Out he
+rushed straight into the flames to Fred. I feel sure Fred's spirit
+cried out when it saw Tom coming in to the flames: "You're looking for
+a spot of bother, Tom, but it's a good show, Tom, a good show!"
+
+When the petrol burnt out and they got to them, they found Tom with
+his arms round Fred. Greater love hath no man. That is how Tom and
+Fred "went West." I hope they have found another "Virtue Villa" not
+"devoid of attraction" high up in the blue sky, where they were often
+together in this life. Let us admit they were a "good show"--in death
+they were not divided. Their Major wrote to me: "The Mess has never
+been the same since." The world itself will never be the same to those
+who loved Tom and Fred and their like who have "gone West."
+
+Thinking of them reminds me of those good lines by Carroll Carstairs,
+written in hospital after he was so badly wounded:--
+
+ "I have friends among the dead, (p. 088)
+ Such a gallant company,
+ Lads whose laugh is scarcely sped
+ To the far country.
+
+ "Jolly fellows, it would seem
+ That they have not really gone--
+ Rather while I've stayed to dream
+ They have marched serenely on."
+
+
+
+
+THE CHURCH, ZILLEBEKE (p. 089)
+
+OCTOBER 1918
+
+
+ "Mud
+ Everywhere--
+ Nothing but mud.
+ The very air seems thick with it,
+ The few tufts of grass are all smeared with it--
+ Mud!
+ The Church a heap of it;
+ One look, and weep for it.
+ That's what they've made of it--
+ Mud!
+ Slimy and wet,
+ Churned and upset;
+ Here Bones that once mattered
+ With crosses lie scattered,
+ Broken and battered,
+ Covered in mud,
+ Here, where the Church's bell
+ Tolled when our heroes fell
+ In that mad start of hell--
+ Mud!
+ That's all that's left of it--mud!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII (p. 090)
+
+NEARING THE END (OCTOBER 1918)
+
+
+The Boche were now nearly on the run. I remember one day I went out
+with General Stuart and Colonel Angus McDonnell--the General was the
+railway expert, and was out to ascertain what amount of damage the
+Boche had done to the lines, permanent way, etc. General Stuart was a
+quaint little man. He seldom spoke, but when he did it was very much
+to the point and full of dry humour. The Hon. Angus McDonnell, a true
+Irishman, was a most attractive person, full of charm. He'd kissed
+more than the Blarney Stone, and had received all the good effects,
+and we had some most interesting days together. On the particular one
+I mention, we went away beyond Cambrai to a place called Caudry, where
+the General inspected the station and the general damage to the metals
+and permanent way, after which we left and lunched by the side of a
+road which ran through fields. All was peace, not a sound from the
+guns--when suddenly shrapnel started bursting over these fields. No
+one was in sight; a few Englishmen on horseback galloped past,
+apparently for exercise. The Boche, I presume, couldn't see, but just
+let off on chance. It was better than leaving the shells there for us.
+
+After lunch we motored down to St. Quentin, and on the way stopped and
+explored the great tunnel in the Canal du Nord. What a stronghold! It
+seemed impossible that the Boche could have been driven out of it. (p. 091)
+On the way down we travelled along a road _pave_ in the middle,
+with mud on each side and the usual rows of trees, then a dip down to
+the fields. These fields were full of dead Boche and horses. The road
+had evidently been under observation a very little while back, as the
+Labour Corps were hard at work filling in shell-holes, and the traffic
+was held up a lot. In one spot in the mud at the side of the road lay
+two British Tommies who had evidently just been killed. They had been
+laid out ready for something to take them away. Standing beside them
+were three French girls, all dressed up, silk stockings and crimped
+hair. There they were, standing over the dead Tommies, asking if you
+would not like "a little love." What a place to choose! Death all
+round, and they themselves might be blown into eternity at any moment.
+Death and the dead had become as nothing to the young generation. They
+had lived through four years of hell with the enemy, and now they were
+free. Another day I went to Douai, and there I saw the mad woman. Her
+son told us she had been quite well until two days before the Boche
+left, then they had done such things to her that she had lost her
+reason. There she sat, silent and motionless, except for one thumb
+which constantly twitched. But if one of us in uniform passed close to
+her, she would give a convulsive shudder. It was sad, this woman with
+her beautiful, curly-headed son. Later she was moved to Amiens, where
+she had relatives. After about six months she became quite normal
+again, and does not remember anything about it. The last time I saw
+her she was cleaning the upstairs rooms at "Josephine's," the little
+oyster-shop off the Street of the Three Pebbles.
+
+[Illustration: XXXVIII. _The Mad Woman of Douai._]
+
+One night at the "Hotel de la Paix" a weird thing happened. One (p. 092)
+often hears strange stories of the powers different men and women have
+over individuals of the opposite sex. As a rule, one hears, one
+smiles, or one is rather disgusted; but seldom do we admit to
+ourselves that these stories may be absolutely true--we nearly always
+smile and think we are clever, and say to ourselves: "Ah! there's
+something behind that." Rasputin, for instance, what was he? Had he
+power? We wonder a little and dismiss the thought.
+
+On this night, at about 9 o'clock, the early diners had gone, but
+there were about thirty of us left who would testify to the truth of
+this tale. A man walked in and sat down at a large empty table. He was
+a French civilian, dressed in black, tall and slim, with an enormous
+brown beard--a "Landru." Marie Louise, one of the serving-girls, asked
+him what he required, and he said: "A glass of Porto." This she
+brought him, but as she was placing it on the table, he put out his
+hand and touched her arm, and let his fingers run very gently up and
+down it. He never spoke a word. She retired and returned with another
+glass of port, and sat down beside him and commenced to drink it; no
+word was uttered. Again he raised his hand, beckoned to another
+serving-girl; the same act was gone through, and she sat down with her
+port. This continued without a word of conversation until he had all
+the serving-girls, about eight of them, sitting round in silence. We
+all sat and looked on in amazement for a while, but after about ten
+minutes hunger got the better of us, and we started calling them for
+our food. They took not the slightest notice of us, but in the end we
+made so much noise that Monsieur Dye, the manager of the hotel, came
+in. He was a hot-tempered man, who never treated the girls under him
+kindly, and when he saw and heard his customers shouting for food, and
+saw all his serving-girls sitting down drinking port, his face went (p. 093)
+black with rage, and he rushed over to their table and cursed them all
+roundly, but they took not the slightest notice. Then he turned on the
+man with the beard and ordered him out of the hotel. He never
+answered, but got up slowly, put on his hat and left. As soon as he
+rose from the table all the girls went back to their work as if
+nothing had happened, and we continued our dinner. It was a strange
+affair--not one of those girls remembered anything about it
+afterwards.
+
+[Illustration: XXXIX. _Field-Marshal Lord Plumer of Messines, G.C.B.,
+etc._]
+
+Again I went to Cassel, to paint General Plumer. I arrived there one
+evening, and had dinner with Major-General Sir Bryan Mahon, who was on
+his way to Lille. I woke up in the morning, got out of bed and
+collapsed on the floor. "'Flu!" After three days the M.O. said I must
+go to hospital. I said: "Hospital be damned! I'm going to paint
+to-morrow." So I wrote and told General Plumer I would work the next
+morning if he could spare the time to sit. He replied he could. So on
+a very cold morning I made my way rather giddily up the stone steps to
+the Casino and on to his little chateau. There I was met by the
+General's grand old batman. He stopped me and said: "Have you come to
+paint the Governor's portrait, sir?" "Yes," said I. "Well," said he,
+"let me have a look at you. You're feeling a bit cheap, ain't you? The
+Governor told me you've been having the 'flu'." "Yes," I said, "I'm
+not feeling up to much." "Well, now," said he, "the Governor is busy
+for the moment, but he told me to look after you and fix up what room
+you would like to work in, but first I want to get you a bit more up
+to scratch. Just come along and have a glass of port." So he brought
+me off and gave me an excellent glass. Then I chose the General's
+bedroom to work in, and we fixed everything up. Then he said: "Now (p. 094)
+I'll go and fetch the old man." Off he went and back he came, and with
+a wink, said: "He's coming," and in walked the General. A strange man
+with a small head, and a large, though not fat, body, and a great
+brain full of humour. He also was very calm, and made things very easy
+for me, but his batman was not so easy to please. When I got the
+General the way I wanted him, the batman leant over my shoulder, and
+said: "Is the Governor right now?" "Perfectly," I replied. "No, he
+ain't," said he, "not by a long chalk." And he went over to the
+General and started pulling out creases in his tunic and said: "'Ere,
+you just sit up proper--not all 'unched up the way you are. What would
+Her Ladyship say if I let you be painted that way?" At last we got him
+satisfied, and he departed. When the door was shut, the General said:
+"Well, that's over," and settled down in comfort.
+
+After I had worked for about an hour and a half there was a knock at
+the door and in the batman came. He took no notice of the General, but
+laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "Look up at me." I obeyed.
+"Won't do," said he. "You wants keeping up to the mark," and retired,
+and came back with an enormous glass of port. When the sitting was
+finished, I went back to bed at the "Sauvage," very giddy and slightly
+muzzed.
+
+The next morning the batman again arranged the General "to Her
+Ladyship's liking," and left. As soon as he had gone, the General
+said: "We've got him on toast. He's worried to death because you
+haven't painted the gold leaves on my red tab. Don't do it till the
+very last thing." It worked splendidly. The old chap was really upset.
+Every hour he used to come in and tap me on the shoulder, point to the
+red tab, and say: "What about it? If you don't get them gold leaves (p. 095)
+proper, I'll get it from Her Ladyship." He was a great servant of the
+true old class, one of those who never lose their place, no matter how
+freely they are treated, and was ready to die for his master at any
+minute.
+
+[Illustration: XL. _Armistice Night. Amiens._]
+
+Soon after this the General and his staff moved forward, and Cassel
+became a dead little place as far as the Army was concerned. Things
+were going very quickly, and scarcely a day passed that one could not
+mark a new front line on one's map.
+
+I went out to see the damage done to Bailleul. In a few days British
+artillery had flattened it out as badly as Ypres. One could hardly
+find out where the main _Place_ had been. Now one could wander all
+over the Ypres salient. Was there ever a more ghastly place? Even the
+Somme was outdone. Mud, water, battered tanks, hundreds of them,
+battered pillboxes, everything battered and torn, with Ypres like a
+skeleton. The Menin Road, the Zonnebeke Road, what sights were
+there--mangled remains of superhuman effort!
+
+I remember one day in the summer being down at Lord Beaverbrook's when
+news came in that Locre had fallen. I had no knowledge of Locre, but
+Lord Beaverbrook, I could see, felt that the loss of it was a very
+serious thing. So I went to see Locre--a ghastly place!--the fighting
+must have been terrific. Shell-holes full of dead Germans. Everything
+smashed to pulp. I should imagine, before Hell visited it, Locre must
+have been a very pretty little place. It is on a hill which looks down
+into a valley, with Mont Kemmel rising up the other side.
+
+Suddenly my blood poisoning came on again badly, so I returned to
+Amiens on November 10. When we had just passed Doullens we got the (p. 096)
+news that the Kaiser had abdicated. Great excitement prevailed
+everywhere. The next day, at 11 a.m., I was working in my room and
+heard guns, so I went to the window and saw the shells bursting over
+the town, but I could not see the Boche 'plane. It must be very high,
+I thought. About ten minutes afterwards there was a sound of cheering,
+so I knew the fighting was over. I went again to the window and looked
+down into the courtyard. It was empty, except for one serving-girl,
+Marthe, who had her apron to her face and was sobbing bitterly.
+Presently, Marie-Louise came up to my room and told me the news, and
+we had a drink together in honour of the great event. Said I: "What
+has happened to poor Marthe? It is sad that she should be so upset on
+this great day. What is the matter?" "Ah!" said Marie-Louise, "it is
+the day that has upset her." "The day?" said I. "Yes," replied
+Marie-Louise, "you see, her husband will come out of the trenches now
+and will come back to her. C'est la Guerre!"
+
+Later, Maude came in, and I asked him what on earth a Boche was doing
+over Amiens just at the moment the fighting ceased. "Oh," said Maude,
+"there wasn't any Boche, but the anti-aircraft chap got orders to fire
+off his guns for ten minutes when the Armistice was signed, but, as he
+had nothing but live shells, he thought he had better stop after two."
+But why he burst his shells right over the centre of the town was
+never explained.
+
+Yet, on this day, looked forward to for years, I must admit that,
+studying people, I found something wrong--perhaps, like all great
+moments expected, something is sure to fall short of expectations.
+Peace was too great a thing to think about, the longing for it was too
+real, too intense. For four years the fighting men had thought of (p. 097)
+nothing except that great moment of achievement: now it had come, the
+great thing had ceased, the war was won and over. The fighting
+man--that marvellous thing that I had worshipped all the time I had
+been in France--had ceased actively to exist. I realised then, almost
+as much as I do now, that he was lost, forgotten. "Greater love hath
+no man"--they had given up their all for the sake of the people at
+home, gone through Hell, misery and terror of sudden death. Could one
+doubt that those at home would not reward them? Alas, yes! and the
+doubt has come true. It made me very depressed. The one thing these
+wonderful super-men gave me to think that evening was: "What shall we
+do? Will they do as they promised for us? I gave up all my life and
+work at home and came out here to kill and be killed. Here I am
+stranded--I cannot kill anyone any more, and nobody wants to kill me.
+What am I to do? Surely they will give me some job: I have done my
+bit, they can't just let me starve." "When you come back home
+again"--yes, that crossed their minds and mine for them. Wending my
+way home through the blackened streets that night, I met a Tommy who
+threatened to kill me because of his misery. I talked him down and
+brought him to my room, and told him I really believed he would have a
+great time in the future. I doubted what I said, but he believed me,
+and went off to his billet happy for that one night.
+
+[Illustration: XLI. _The Official Entry of the Kaiser._]
+
+Could anyone forecast the tragedy that has happened to so many of
+these men since? That great human Field-Marshal, Lord Haig, the man
+who knows, works for them still, and asks--but who answers? Great God!
+it makes one think, remember, think and wonder, what impossibly
+thankless people human beings are. It is sad, but very, very true!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV (p. 098)
+
+THE PEACE CONFERENCE
+
+
+Captain Maude left Amiens and became Major Maude, D.S.O., A.P.M.
+Cologne. I missed him greatly, and it depressed me very much being
+left in that old town, but the doctors flatly refused to let me move,
+so I just had to grin and bear it.
+
+I then got more ill and took to my bed. My recollections from that
+time to the middle of January are very hazy. People were very kind to
+me, and used to come and sit with me for hours, especially two Rifle
+Brigade boys--Stevens and Riviere--two of the best. Stevens had just
+come back from Brussels, where there had been great times, music and
+dancing. Apparently the great tune of that period was "Katie"; anyway
+Stevens could not get it out of his head. He never knew how near he
+was to sending me completely mad, by singing gently to himself as the
+winter afternoons drew in:--
+
+ "K-K-K-Katie, beautiful Katie,
+ You're the only g-g-girl that I adore,
+ When the ke-moon shines on the Ke-cowshed;
+ I'll be waiting at the Kitchie Kitchen door."
+
+Long afterwards, during the Peace Conference, whenever I heard that
+tune in the "Majestic," my mind went back to the misery and
+semi-darkness in that dirty room in Amiens.
+
+On New Year's Eve, Angus McDonnell came all the way from G.H.Q. and (p. 099)
+had me lifted out to dinner, so I must have been better then. General
+Sir John Cowans also came all the way from G.H.Q. to see how I was.
+Kindness is a wonderful thing.
+
+[Illustration: XLII. _General Sir J. S. Cowans, G.C.B., etc._]
+
+The Allied Press disbanded, and I gave a dinner to the boys at the
+"Hotel de la Paix." It was all arranged by my chauffeur, Gordon
+Howlett, and my batman, Green, and it was well done. Great were the
+songs and dances, and great was the amount of liquid put away. I was
+lifted downstairs and laid out beside the table, and the lads
+presented me with a magnificent silver ash-tray.
+
+Towards the end of January, I was allowed out and about again, and I
+went up to G.H.Q. to paint the Q.M.G., who put me up in his chateau. I
+painted him, and also did some work down at "Bumpherie," including a
+drawing of Lieutenant Brooks, who took the most wonderful official
+photographs during the war, often at great personal risk. I remember a
+story that went round in 1917, in which there was not a word of truth,
+but it was amusing. A terrible-looking Tommy stopped Brooks in the
+Street of the Three Pebbles and said: "Say, guv'ner, when are you
+going to give me me photo?" "What photo? Who are you?" said Brooks.
+"Blimy," said the Tommy, "you don't know me, and me the bloke as was
+killed going over the top for you!"
+
+I now got a reminder that I was due in Paris to paint the Peace
+Conference. The whole thing had gone from my mind. I afterwards found
+the letter, which I apparently had received and read, dated December,
+telling me to go to Paris, but I was so sick I did not realise what it
+was about. I realised now right enough, so I packed my bag and breezed
+away to Paris, and found that great family gathering, the Peace (p. 100)
+Conference, and the life of the "Astoria" and the "Majestic" commenced
+for me.
+
+The great family really was composed of a number of little families.
+Mine consisted of Lord Riddell, George Mair, Lieut.-Colonel Stroud
+Jackson, D.S.O., George Adam, Sidney Dark and Gordon Knox, and great
+were the meetings at Foucquet's before lunch.
+
+For the most part, my life consisted now of painting portraits at the
+"Astoria," or attending the Conference at the "Quai d'Orsay." During
+these I did little drawings of the delegates. For a seat I was usually
+perched up on a window-sill. It was very amusing to sit there and
+listen to Clemenceau--"Le Tigre"--putting the fear of death into the
+delegates of the smaller nations if they talked too long. Apparently,
+the smaller the nation he represented, the more the delegate felt it
+incumbent on himself to talk, but after a while, Clemenceau, with the
+grey gloves whirling about, would shout him down.
+
+President Wilson occasionally rose and spoke of love and forgiveness.
+Lloyd George just went on working, his secretaries constantly rushing
+up to him, whispering and departing, only to return for more whispers.
+Mr. Balfour, whose personality made all the other delegates look
+common, would quietly sleep. The Marquis Siongi was the only other man
+who could hold his own at all with Mr. Balfour in dignity of
+appearance.
+
+As a whole there was just a little mass of black frock-coated
+figures--"frocks" as we called them--sitting and moving about under
+the vast decoration of "Le Salon de l'Horloge." Some of the little
+people seemed excited, but for the most part they looked profoundly (p. 101)
+bored, yet they were changing the face of the map, slices were being
+cut off one country and dumped on to another. It was all very
+wonderful, but I admit that all these little "frocks" seemed to me
+very small personalities, in comparison with the fighting men I had
+come in contact with during the war.
+
+[Illustration: XLIII. _Field-Marshal Sir Henry H. Wilson, Bart.,
+K.C.B., etc._]
+
+They appeared to think so much--too much--of their own personal
+importance, searching all the time for popularity, each little one for
+himself--strange little things. President Wilson made a great hit in
+the Press with his smile. He was pleased at that, and after this he
+never failed to let you see all his back teeth. Lloyd George grew hair
+down his back, I presume from Mr. Asquith's lead. Paderewski--well, he
+was always a made-up job. In short, from my window-seat it was easy to
+see how self-important the majority of all these little black "frocks"
+thought themselves. It was all like an _opera bouffe_, after the
+people I had seen, known and painted during the war; and these, as the
+days went by, seemed to be gradually becoming more and more forgotten.
+It seemed impossible, but it was true. The fighting man, alive, and
+those who fought and died--all the people who made the Peace
+Conference possible, were being forgotten, the "frocks" reigned
+supreme. One was almost forced to think that the "frocks" won the war.
+"I did this," "I did that," they all screamed, but the silent soldier
+man never said a word, yet he must have thought a lot.
+
+I remember when the Peace Terms were handed to the Germans at the
+Trianon Palace, I tried my hardest to get a card to enable me to see
+it, but failed. This may not seem strange, but it really was,
+considering that about half the people who were present were there out
+of curiosity alone. They were just friends of the "frocks." This (p. 102)
+ceremony took place at 2.30 p.m. on that particular day. I happened to
+leave my room and go into the hall of the "Astoria" for something
+about 3 p.m. There I met Field-Marshal Sir Henry Wilson. I said: "How
+did you get back so soon, sir?" He said: "Back from where?" I said:
+"From the handing over of the Peace Terms." "Oh," he said, "I haven't
+been there. They wouldn't give me a pass, the little 'frocks' wouldn't
+give me one." "I've been trying for days, sir," I said. "They expect
+me to paint them, but they won't let me see them." "Look here, little
+man," he said. "I've been thinking as I was walking back here, and
+I'll give you a little piece of advice: 'Laugh at those who cry, and
+cry at those who laugh.' Just go back to your little room and think
+that over and you will feel better."
+
+When I painted Sir Henry, he gave me his views on the brains and
+merits of many of the delegates, views full of wit and brilliant
+criticism, but when I had finished painting him I came under his
+kindly lash. He called me "a nasty little wasp," and he kept a "black
+book" for any of his lady friends who said the sketch was like him. In
+it their names were inscribed, and they were never to be spoken to
+again. With all his fun, Sir Henry was a deep thinker, and towered
+over the majority of the "frocks" by his personality, big outlook and
+clear vision.
+
+General Botha was big, large and great in body and brain--elephantine!
+Everything on an immense scale, even to his sense of humour. He had no
+sign of pose, like most of the "frocks." He never seemed to try to
+impress anyone. One could notice no change in his method or mode of
+conversation according to whom he was speaking. The great mind just (p. 103)
+went on and uttered what it thought, regardless of whom it uttered it
+to. In Mrs. Botha he had the ideal wife. Together they were like two
+school-children. "Louis" and "Mother," how well they knew each other,
+and how they loved their family and home! They were always talking of
+"home" and longing to get back to it. Alas! Louis only got back there
+for a very short time, and now "home" will never be the same for
+"Mother."
+
+[Illustration: XLIV. _The Rt. Hon. Louis Botha, P.C., LL.D._]
+
+What arguments they used to have--fierce arguments which always ended
+the same way! "Louis" would make some remark which would absolutely
+pulverise "Mother's" side of the question, and as she was stammering
+to reply, he would say very gently: "It's all right, Mother, it's all
+right, you've won." And she would flash out with: "Don't you dare to
+say that to me, Louis! You always say that when you get the best of
+the argument."
+
+She used to complain to me how terrible the General's love for bridge
+was, and how she used to be kept up so late. He would laugh and say:
+"But, Mother, you didn't get up till nine this morning. I was walking
+in the Bois at half-past six."
+
+I remember one afternoon they came to my room and Mrs. Botha said:
+"Well, Louis, what kind of a morning had you?" He replied: "Not very
+good, Mother, not very good. You see, Mother, Clemenceau got very
+irritated with President Wilson, and Lloyd George the same with
+Orlando. No, it wasn't a very pleasant morning. Nearly everyone was
+irritable." Then "Mother" said: "I think it disgusting, Louis, that
+these men, settling the peace of the world, should allow their own
+little petty irritabilities to interfere with the great work." And (p. 104)
+Botha replied: "Ah! Mother, you must make allowances. Men are only
+human." "I don't make allowances," jerked in "Mother," "I think it's
+disgusting." "Don't say that, Mother," he replied. "I remember one
+time, long ago, when we made our little peace, you used to get very
+irritable at times, and I had to make a lot of allowances for you. You
+must try and make the same for these poor people now." "Mother" never
+even replied to this, but jumped from her chair and left the room, and
+the big man's face broadened into a smile. Yes, Botha was big--a giant
+among men.
+
+Admiral Lord Wester Wemyss came along. He has a good head for a "Sea
+Dog." He brought the sea into the heart of Paris with him. A man of
+great charm, with a wonderful smile, which I did not paint.
+
+I wrote and asked President Wilson to sit, and got a reply saying that
+as his time was fully occupied with the Peace Conference work, he
+regretted that he was unable to give any sittings.
+
+I also wrote to Mr. Lansing and Colonel House, asking them. The
+Colonel rang up the same afternoon and said, "Certainly," would I name
+my day and hour? Which I did; and along he came, a charming man, very
+calm, very sure of himself, yet modest. During the sitting he asked me
+if I had painted the President. I replied: "No." He then asked me if I
+was going to do so, and I replied: "No," that the President had
+refused to sit. He said: "Refused?" I said: "Yes; he hasn't got the
+time." "What damned rot!" said the Colonel, "he's got a damned sight
+more time than I have. What day would you like him to come to sit?" I
+named a day, and the Colonel said: "Right! I'll see that he's here,"
+and he did. Mr. Lansing was also very good about giving sittings, (p. 105)
+and we had a good time, as he loves paintings, and knows all the Art
+Galleries in Europe. He also paints himself in his spare time, and all
+through the Conference at the "Quai d'Orsay" he drew caricatures of
+the different delegates. President Wilson told me he had a large
+collection of these.
+
+[Illustration: XLV. _The Rt. Hon. A. J. Balfour. O.M._]
+
+When Lord Reading sat he had the "'flu," and did not talk, so I got
+nothing out of him except that he has a very fine head.
+
+The Emir Feisul sat. He had a nice, calm, thoughtful face. Of course,
+his make-up in garments made one think of Ruth, or, rather, Boaz. He
+could not let me work for one minute without coming round to see what
+I was doing. This made the sittings a bit jerky. I was going to paint
+another portrait of him for his home, but we never hit off times when
+we were both free.
+
+I asked Mr. Balfour to sit, and he asked me to lunch to arrange it.
+The subject was never mentioned, but the lunch in the Rue Nito was
+excellent, and it was a joy to listen to Mr. Balfour. One could also
+look down into President Wilson's garden, as Mr. Balfour's flat was on
+the second floor, and one could see over the armed defences and view
+the American Army on guard outside, with steel helmets and bayonets
+flashing in the sunlight.
+
+Mr. Balfour did sit in the end. I remember he came to my room about
+12.15 p.m. He was sound asleep by 12.35 p.m., but woke up sharp at 1
+p.m., and left for lunch. What a head! It put all other heads out of
+the running. So refined, so calm, so strong, a fitting head for such a
+great personality.
+
+Dr. E. J. Dillon very kindly asked me to dinner to meet Venezelos, and
+he arranged for him to sit, which he did at the "Mercedes Hotel." He (p. 106)
+had a beautiful head, with far-seeing blue eyes, which had a
+distinctly Jewish look. It was difficult to paint him, as he had no
+idea of sitting at all. It was a pity, as he had a wonderful head to
+paint. His flesh was fresh and rosy like a young boy's.
+
+Da Costa, of Portugal, came along: a bright little man, full of health
+and energy; and after him that quiet, thoughtful friendly person, Sir
+Robert Borden, of Canada; even then he looked rather tired and
+overworked.
+
+General Sykes sat. What a strange head! A sort of mixture between Hall
+Caine and Shakespeare.
+
+The day arrived when President Wilson was to sit. He was to come at 2
+p.m., so I went back to the "Astoria" about 1.30. When I got to the
+door I found a large strange man ordering all the English motors to go
+one hundred yards down the Rue Vernet. No British car was allowed to
+stop closer. When I entered the "Astoria," one of the Security
+Officers told me that an American detective had been inquiring the
+direct route the President was to take to my room. I went on into
+another little room I had, where I kept my paints and things; and
+there I found two large men sitting in the only two chairs. They took
+no notice of me, and were quite silent, so I proceeded to get ready.
+Taking off my belt and tunic, and putting on my painting coat, I
+started to squeeze out colours, when suddenly in marched an enormous
+man. He looked all round the room and said in a deep voice: "Is Sir
+William Orpen here?" "Yes, I'm here," I said. He walked up to me and,
+towering over me, looked down and said in grave doubt: "Are _you_ Sir
+William Orpen?" "Yep," I replied, in my best American accent. "Well,"
+he said, "be pleased to dress yourself and proceed to the door and
+prepare to receive the President of the United States of America." (p. 107)
+That finished me--I had been worked up to desperate action. So I
+looked up as fully as I could in his face, and uttered one short,
+thoroughly English word, but one which has a lot to it. Immediately
+the two large men and the enormous one left the room in utter silence.
+
+[Illustration: XLVI. _President Woodrow Wilson._]
+
+Shortly afterwards the President arrived, smiling as usual; but he was
+a good sort, and he laughed hard when I told him the story of the
+detectives. He was very genial and sat well, but even then he was very
+nervous and twitchy. He told endless stories, mostly harmless, and
+some witty. I only remember one. A king was informed that all the men
+in his State were obeying their wives; so he ordered them all before
+him on a certain day and spoke to them, saying he had heard the fact
+about their obeying their wives, and he wished to ascertain if it was
+so. So he commanded, "All men who obey their wives go to my left!"
+They all went to his left except one miserable little man, who
+remained where he was, alone. The king turned, and said to him: "Are
+you the only man in my State who does not obey his wife?" "No, sire,"
+said the little man, "I obey my wife, sire." "Then why do you not go
+to my left as I commanded?" "Because, sire," said the little man, "my
+wife told me always to avoid a crush." It's a mild story, but it's the
+only one I remember. The only other thing I recollect about President
+Wilson is that he had a great admiration for Lord Robert Cecil.
+
+General Sackville-West came, and we had some peaceful sittings. A very
+calm, very sad man, but he was kindness itself. Many are the acts for
+which I have to thank him.
+
+Lord Beatty arrived in Paris. A lunch was given in his honour at the
+Embassy, after which he came back with me to the "Astoria," and sat. (p. 108)
+A forceful character! I may be wrong, but I imagine he did not love
+the "frocks."
+
+George Adam gave a great dinner one night out at some little country
+place near Paris. Mr. Massey, of New Zealand, and Admiral Heaton Ellis
+were the two chief people present. Massey was a most pleasant big man,
+with kind, blue eyes--a simple, honest, straightforward person, large
+in body and big enough in brain to laugh at himself. He made me feel I
+was back painting the honest people in the war. He had none of the
+affectations of the "frocks."
+
+I painted the Marquis Siongi in his flat in the Rue Bassano. There one
+worked in the calm of the East. People entered the room, people left,
+but I never heard a sound. The Marquis sat--never for one second did
+his expression give an inkling of what his brain was thinking about.
+He never moved; his eyelids never fluttered, and beside me all the
+time I worked, curled up on a sofa, was his daughter--surely one of
+the most beautiful women I have ever seen, soft and gentle, with her
+lovely little white feet. I loved it all. When I left that flat I
+could not help feeling I was going downstairs to a lower and more
+common world, a world where passions and desires were thrust upon
+one's eyes and ears, leaving no room for imagination or wonder. I
+never pass down the Rue Bassano now that I do not think of the Marquis
+and those lovely little white feet, the gentle manners and the calm of
+the East which pervaded those apartments.
+
+General Smuts sat, a strong personality with great love for his own
+country, and a fearless blue eye. I would not like to be up against
+him, yet in certain ways he was a dreamer and poet in thought. He
+loved the people and hated the "frocks." He and I had a great night
+once at the servants' dance down in the ballroom of the "Majestic." (p. 109)
+I found him down there during the evening, and he said: "You've got
+sense, Orpen. There is life down here, but upstairs it's 'just
+death.'"
+
+[Illustration: XLVII. _The Marquis Siongi._]
+
+Mary was, of course, the "Belle of the Ball." No description of the
+Peace Conference could be complete without including Mary. One great
+man said that the most joyous sight he saw in Paris was Mary. Mary
+doled us out tea and cigarettes in the hall of the "Majestic"--doled
+them out with a smile of pure health. Mary came from Manchester, yet
+she made the Parisian girls look pale, pallid and washed out. Her rosy
+cheeks had a smile for everyone, men and women; one and all loved
+Mary. She really was the greatest personal success of the Peace
+Conference. How the people of Manchester must have missed her, and how
+lucky they are to have her back again!
+
+Another delegate with no affectation was Mr. Barnes, a restful,
+thoughtful soul. He brought Mrs. Barnes in one afternoon, a charming,
+quiet lady. They should be painted together as an ideal English
+couple.
+
+Another good Englishman, Lord Derby, our Ambassador, sat to me. Some
+day will be known all the good he has done in France. Loved by all,
+this joyous, bluff, big-hearted Englishman has done great things in
+keeping friendship and goodwill between the two nations through many
+anxious moments. One felt better after being at the Embassy and
+hearing his great laugh. He was not a bit like a "frock"; whether he
+loved them or not, I don't know. He was far too clever to let me know,
+but he was too kind-hearted to hurt anybody or anything, and he
+certainly loved the fighting man--French, English or American.
+
+Mr. Hughes made a big mark at the Conference. He was as deaf as a (p. 110)
+post, but he had a cutting wit. Many are the good stories told about
+him, but they are not mine. Clemenceau and he used to have great
+jokes. Often I have seen them rocking with laughter together,
+Clemenceau's grey-gloved hands on Hughes' shoulders, leaning over him
+and shouting into his enormous deaf cars. He came to sit one day with
+_The Times_. He said: "Good morning." I asked him to sit in a chair.
+He sat, read _The Times_ for about an hour and a half, murmured
+something that I did not catch, got up and left. The next day he rang
+up and asked if I wished for another sitting. I said: "No, sir," so
+that was my only personal meeting with Hughes; but I gather he was
+extremely cute and cunning, which is quite possible from the general
+make-up of his head.
+
+That warrior, General Carton de Wiart, V.C., came to sit: a man who
+loved war. What a happy nature! He told me he never suffered any pain
+from all his wounds except once--mental pain--when he temporarily lost
+the sight of his other eye, and he thought he might be blind for life.
+A joyous man, so quiet, so calm, so utterly unaffected. What a lesson
+to the "frocks"!
+
+Another man of great personal charm was Paul Hymans, of Belgium. He
+was greatly liked and respected by the British delegates.
+
+[Illustration: XLVIII. _A Polish Messenger._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV (p. 111)
+
+PARIS DURING THE PEACE CONFERENCE
+
+
+Shortly after I arrived in Paris I found one could get "Luxury Tax
+Tickets." I had never heard of a Luxury Tax up North, but it was in
+force in Paris right enough. So I went to H.Q. Central Area, and
+inside the door whom should I meet but my one-time "Colonel" of G.H.Q.
+"Hello!" said he. "What are you doing in Paris?" "Painting the Peace
+Conference, sir," said I. "Well, what do you want here?" he asked.
+"I've come for some Luxury Tax Tickets, sir." "To what are you
+attached now?" he asked. "C.P.G.H.Q., sir," said I. "Well," he said,
+"if you are attached to G.H.Q. you must go there and get your Luxury
+Tax Tickets. You can't get them here." "Right, sir," said I. "Will you
+please sign an order for me to proceed to G.H.Q. to obtain Luxury Tax
+Tickets and return? and I will start right away, sir." "Well," he
+said, "perhaps, after all, I will allow you to have some here, as you
+are working in Paris." "Thank you very much indeed, sir," said I,
+clicking my heels and saluting. But it was no good, we never could
+become friends, as I said before.
+
+One afternoon in the hall at the "Astoria" I saw a strange man--a
+paintable person--and I asked the Security Officers to get him to sit
+to me. He was a Polish messenger. He came along the next morning, sat
+down and smoked his silver pipe. I said: "Can you understand any (p. 112)
+English?" "Yes," said he, in a strong Irish accent, "I can a bit."
+"But," I said, "you talk it very well. Have you lived in Ireland?"
+"No," said he, "but I went to the States for about six months some
+fifteen years or more back, and that's where I picked up the wee bit I
+have." I began to think he must be de Valera or some other hero in
+disguise. Perhaps he was.
+
+Field-Marshal Sir Henry Wilson asked me to dine at the "Majestic" one
+night. In the afternoon I got a telephone message that the place for
+the dinner had been changed from the "Majestic" to the Embassy. When I
+reached there I was received by Sir Henry (Lord and Lady Derby were
+also present). He apologised to me for the room being a little cold.
+At dinner, which was perfect, he found fault and apologised for the
+food, for the wine, for the waiting--nothing was right. It was great
+fun. He kept it up all the evening. When saying good-bye to Their
+Excellencies, he said: "I can't tell you how sorry I am about
+everything being so bad to-night, but I'll ask you out to a restaurant
+another night and give you some decent food and drink."
+
+About this time I painted Lord Riddell, who, with George Mair and
+others, was looking after the interests of the Press. Meetings were
+held twice a day and news was doled out by Riddell, such news as the
+P.M. saw fit that the Press should know. Great was the trouble when
+George Adam would suddenly burst into print with some news that had
+not been received through this particular official channel. Adam,
+having worked in Paris for years, knew endless channels for news that
+the others had no knowledge of.
+
+Riddell was a great chap, full of energy, full of an immense burning (p. 113)
+desire for knowledge on every subject, too, in the world. One always
+found him asking questions, often about things that one would think it
+was impossible he should take any interest in. He must have a
+tremendous amount of knowledge stored up in that fine brain of his,
+for he never forgets, not even little things. He was most kind to us
+all and was hospitality itself. He personally was a very simple
+feeder, and he never drank any wine or spirits, but nothing was too
+good for those he entertained. A lovable man, well worthy of all the
+honours he has received. He had a great support in his secretary, Mrs.
+Read, a charming, gracious lady, who probably worked harder during
+those days than anyone else, except, perhaps, Sir Maurice Hankey.
+
+[Illustration: XLIX. _Lord Riddell._]
+
+One night I dined at "Ciro's" with George Adam and some others. I was
+late when I came in. Before we went into the dining-room, Adam told me
+to take notice of an English lady who was sitting a couple of tables
+away from ours. This I did, and I remembered having seen her
+constantly at the "Berkeley Hotel," London, years before. She was most
+peculiarly dressed in some sort of stuff that looked like curtains,
+tall and slim, with a refined, good-looking face, but a somewhat
+strange look in her eyes. She was with two men. Presently a lady
+joined the group from another table. Dancing began, and she left with
+one of the men, danced and came back again. I could not remember her
+name, so I asked Philippe, who told me she was an English duchess, but
+he could not remember what she duched over.
+
+After dinner we went out and sat and watched the dancing and I forgot
+all about her. About eleven o'clock, during a lull between dances, she
+appeared before me. The moment she appeared two large waiters seized (p. 114)
+her by the back of the neck and ran her up the dance-hall and threw
+her out. A strange sight, surely! An English "duchess" being thrown
+out of a dance-hall in Paris.
+
+Having been given a most excellent dinner by Adam, my feelings were
+roused at this peculiar treatment of the English aristocracy, so I
+went over to Philippe and asked him what he meant by this disgraceful
+behaviour to an English lady. He replied: "The men she was with left
+an hour ago." "But," said I, "I never saw her behave badly. Why didn't
+you ask her to leave?" "I did," said he, "but she just patted me on
+the back, and said, 'Don't let that worry you, old chap.'" Still, my
+feelings--thanks still to the dinner--were roused, so I went out into
+the hall to try and find her, as I had noticed she was wearing about
+twenty thousand pounds' worth of pearls round her neck. Not that I
+meant to take these, but I hated the thought of someone else doing so,
+and I wished to see her safely home, but she had gone--vanished! The
+only thing I learnt was that she was staying at the "Ritz." But when I
+inquired there they informed me that they were housing no English
+duchess.
+
+A few days later I was passing the "Hotel Chatham" and I saw her
+coming towards me, very well dressed, in white furs this time and the
+large globes of pearls still round her neck. She walked straight up to
+me: "I want you to do something for me," she said. I don't remember
+what I replied, but she said: "Don't be frightened--it's not immoral.
+I'm not that sort. I just want you to come along with me to 'The Hole
+in the Wall.'" "Where is it?" I asked. "I don't know," she said.
+"That's what I want you for. I want you to find 'The Hole in the
+Wall.'" "I'm sorry, Madam," I said, "I can't do it. I've got an (p. 115)
+engagement." She wiggled her finger in front of my nose, and said:
+"Ah, naughty, naughty boy!" and went on her way. I followed at a safe
+distance. Every man she met, no matter what class or nationality, she
+stopped, all the way down the boulevard, and asked them to find "The
+Hole in the Wall" for her.
+
+None did, however, even though she was quite near it all the time, and
+the last I saw of her was when she disappeared down the steps of
+Olympia alone. Not quite the place for an English "duchess" to go
+alone, with twenty thousand pounds' worth of pearls in full view. I
+wonder who she was and where she is now? Perhaps in "The Hole in the
+Wall."
+
+About this time I introduced Lord Riddell to Mrs. Glyn, and we had
+some very amusing out-of-door dinners at Laurent's. During dinner and
+afterwards, Mrs. Glyn would teach us many things about life, Nature
+and love: why women lost their lovers; why men did not keep their
+wives; the correct way to make love; the stupid ordinary methods of
+the male; what the female expected; what she ought to expect, and what
+she mostly got. It was all very pleasant, the modulated voice of
+Elinor under the trees and twinkling stars. Her elocution was
+certainly remarkable, and Lord Riddell's dinners excellent.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI (p. 116)
+
+THE SIGNING OF THE PEACE
+
+
+The great day of the signing of the Peace was drawing near, and I
+worked hard to get the centre window in the Hall of Mirrors reserved
+for the artists. In the end, the French authorities sanctioned this.
+They also promised to do a lot more things which would have made the
+ceremony much more imposing, but these they did not do. It is a
+strange thought, but surely true, that the French as a nation seem to
+take, at present, little interest in pomp and ceremony. The meetings
+of the delegates at the "Quai d'Orsay," the handing over of the Peace
+Terms to our late enemies, were all rather rough-and-tumble affairs,
+and, in the end, the great signing of the Treaty had not as much
+dignity as a sale at Christie's. How different must the performance
+have been in 1870! One man, at least, was there who knew the
+difference--Lord Dunraven, who attended both ceremonies.
+
+I drove out in the morning to Versailles with George Mair and Adam,
+and we all had lunch at the "Hotel des Reservoirs." When we started to
+go to the Palace I found they had yellow Press tickets, by which they
+were admitted by the side gate nearest the hotel; but I had a white
+ticket, and had to enter by the main front gate. When I went round
+towards this gate I found that all the way down the square, and
+further along the road as far as the eye could see, the route was (p. 117)
+lined with people, about one hundred deep, with two rows of French
+cavalry in front. These people had all taken their places, and they
+would not let me through. I thought for sure I was going to miss the
+show, and the sweat of nerves broke out on me. By great luck I met a
+French Captain, to whom I, in my very broken French, explained my
+plight. He was most kind, took my card, made a way through the crowd,
+explained and showed my card to the military horsemen, and I was let
+through. Then the sweat began to run. I found myself about
+three-quarters of a mile away from the entrance to the Palace, all by
+myself in this human-sided avenue--thousands of people staring at me.
+I expected every minute to be arrested. Naturally, no one else entered
+on foot. They all drove up in their cars. Guards at the gates scanned
+my dripping face, but not a word was uttered to me, no pass was asked
+for--nothing!
+
+[Illustration: L. _The Rt. Hon. the Earl of Derby, K.G., etc._]
+
+The marble staircase was most imposing, lined on each side by
+Municipal Guards, but the Hall of Mirrors was pandemonium, a mass of
+little humans, all trying to get to different places. In the end I got
+to the centre window. It was empty. I was the first artist to arrive,
+and very satisfied I was to have got there safely. Suddenly, up walked
+a French Colonel, who told me to get out. I showed him my card and
+told him this was the window reserved for artists. He explained that
+this had been changed, and that the next window was reserved for them,
+and led me off there. There I found all the French and American
+artists huddled together. As soon as the Colonel left, I crept back to
+the centre window. I was turned back again. This creeping to the
+centre window and being turned back continued till I spoke to M. (p. 118)
+Arnavon, who advised me to stop in the artists' window till just
+before the show started, and then to go to the middle window. Just
+before the beginning there was great excitement. A stream of
+secretaries came up the Hall, two carrying chairs, and with them two
+grubby-looking old men. The chairs were placed in the centre window,
+and the old chaps sat themselves down. They were country friends of
+Clemenceau's, and he had said that morning that they were to have the
+centre window, and that artists could go to--somewhere else. When the
+proceedings commenced I slipped in behind their chairs, and, except
+for a glare from "Le Tigre," I was left in peace.
+
+Clemenceau rose and said a few words expressing a desire that the
+Germans would come forward and sign. Even while he was saying these
+few words the whole hall was in movement--nothing but little black
+figures rushing about and crushing each other. Then, amidst a mass of
+secretaries from the French Foreign Office, the two Germans, Hermann
+Mueller and Doctor Bell, came nervously forward, signed, and were led
+back to their places. Some guns went off on the terrace--the windows
+rattled. Everyone looked rather nervous for a moment, and the show was
+over, except for the signatures of the Allies. These were written
+without any dignity. People talked and cracked jokes to each other
+across tables. Lloyd George found a friend on his way up to sign his
+name, and as he had a story to tell him, the whole show was held up
+for a bit, but after all, it may have been a good story. All the
+"frocks" did all their tricks to perfection. President Wilson showed
+his back teeth; Lloyd George waved his Asquithian mane; Clemenceau
+whirled his grey-gloved hands about like windmills; Lansing drew his
+pictures and Mr. Balfour slept. It was all over. The "frocks" had won (p. 119)
+the war. The "frocks" had signed the Peace! The Army was forgotten.
+Some dead and forgotten, others maimed and forgotten, others alive and
+well--but equally forgotten. Yet the sun shone outside my window and
+the fountains played, and the German Army--what was left of it--was a
+long, long way from Paris.
+
+[Illustration: LI. _Signing the Peace Treaty._]
+
+After seeing some of the great little black-coated ones leave, amidst
+great cheering, George Mair, Colonel Stroud Jackson and I went to the
+aerodrome and saw the Press photographs sent off to the waiting crowds
+in the British Isles. Then back to Paris. Paris was very calm, not the
+least excited. I remember Mair gave some of us dinner at Ciro's that
+night. When the band played the Marseillaise, we stood up on our
+chairs, held hands and sang and cheered, but no one else moved, so in
+the end we got down, feeling damned fools. It was all rather sad!
+
+The next great show was the triumphal march through the Arc de
+Triomphe. It was fine! But it must be admitted that the Americans
+scored. They had picked men trained for months for this march, and
+along they came in close formation, wearing steel helmets. It was a
+fine sight!
+
+But there were great moments when Foch passed, and when Haig passed at
+the head of his men, and the roars that came from the "Astoria" must
+have been heard a long way off. The "Astoria" was the hotel reserved
+by the Kaiser for his friends to witness his triumphal entry into
+Paris, so we had a good view. He chose well.
+
+I remember during the war, when a "frock" visited some fighting zone,
+he was always very well looked after and entertained by whatever H.Q.
+he visited, and I was amazed on this day to find Field-Marshal Lord (p. 120)
+Haig and General Sir John Davidson lunching alone at the "Majestic."
+Lord Allenby was also lunching at another table and General Robertson
+at another. To me it was ununderstandable. These representatives of
+the dead and the living of the British Army, on the day of its glory,
+being allowed to lunch alone, much as they might have wished it.
+
+As far as I remember, Lord Derby gave a dinner in their honour that
+evening, but I am certain the "frocks" did nothing. After all, why
+should they fuss themselves? The fighting was over. The Army was
+nothing--harmless! Why should they trouble about these men? Why upset
+themselves and their pleasures by remembering the little upturned
+hands on the duckboards, or the bodies lying in the water in the
+shell-holes, or the hell and bloody damnation of the four years and
+odd months of war, or the men and their commanders who pulled them
+through from a bloodier and worse damnation and set them up to dictate
+a peace for the world?
+
+The war was over, the Germans were a long, long way from the coast or
+Paris. The whole thing was finished. Why worry now to honour the
+representatives of the dead, or the maimed, or the blind, or the
+living that remained? _Why?_ In Heaven's name, _why not_?
+
+I remember one day, during the Peace Conference in the "Astoria,"
+asking a great English General about the delegates and how things were
+getting on, and he said: "I wish the little 'frocks' would leave it to
+us--those who fight know best how to make peace. We would not talk so
+much, but we would get things settled more quickly and better." Surely
+that was the truth!
+
+
+[Illustration: LII. _End of a Hero and a Tank, Courcelette._]
+
+[Illustration: LIII. _General Birdwood Returning to his
+ Headquarters--Grevillers._]
+
+[Illustration: LIV. _A Skeleton in a Trench._]
+
+[Illustration: LV. _Flight-Sergeant, R.F.C._]
+
+[Illustration: LVI. _N.C.O. Grenadier Guards._]
+
+[Illustration: LVII. _Stretcher-bearers._]
+
+[Illustration: LVIII. _Man Resting, near Arras._]
+
+[Illustration: LIX. _Going Home to be Married._]
+
+[Illustration: LX. _Household Brigade Passing to the Ypres Salient,
+ Cassel._]
+
+[Illustration: LXI. _Ready to Start._]
+
+[Illustration: LXII. _German Prisoner with the Iron Cross._]
+
+[Illustration: LXIII. _A Big Gun and its Guardian._]
+
+[Illustration: LXIV. "_Good-bye-ee._"]
+
+[Illustration: LXV. _The Chateau, Thiepval._]
+
+[Illustration: LXVI. _German Wire, Thiepval._]
+
+[Illustration: LXVII. _Thiepval._]
+
+[Illustration: LXVIII. _Highlander Passing a Grave._]
+
+[Illustration: LXIX. _M. R. D. de Maratray._]
+
+[Illustration: LXX. _A Man Thinking, on the Butte de Warlencourt._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXI. _Major-General Sir Henry Burstall, K.C.B., etc._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXII. _Major-General L. J. Lipsett, C.M.G._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXIII. _A Village. Evening. (Monchy)._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXIV. _Christmas Night, Cassel._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXV. _Blown Up. Mad._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXVI. _A Support Trench._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXVII. _Major-General Sir H. J. Elles, K.C.M.G., etc._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXVIII. _Dead Germans in a Trench._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXIX. _A German Prisoner._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXX. _A Highlander Resting._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXI. _A Man with a Cigarette._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXII. _Mr. Lloyd George, President Wilson and
+ M. Clemenceau._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXIII. _A Meeting of the Peace Conference._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXIV. _Admiral of the Fleet Lord Wester Wemyss, G.C.B._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXV. _Colonel Edward M. House._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXVI. _Mr. Robert Lansing._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXVII. _The Emir Feisul._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXVIII. _M. Eleutherios Venezelos._]
+
+[Illustration: LXXXIX. _Admiral of the Fleet Sir David Beatty, Viscount
+ Borodale of Wexford. O.M., G.C.B., etc._]
+
+[Illustration: XC. _The Rt. Hon. W. F. Massey, P.C._]
+
+[Illustration: XCI. _General the Rt. Hon. J. C. Smuts, P.C., C.H._]
+
+[Illustration: XCII. _The Rt. Hon. G. N. Barnes, P.C._]
+
+[Illustration: XCIII. _The Rt. Hon. W. M. Hughes, P.C., K.G._]
+
+[Illustration: XCIV. _Brigadier-General A. Carton de Wiart, V.C., C.B.,
+ etc._]
+
+[Illustration: XCV. _M. Paul Hymans._]
+
+[Illustration: XCVI. _The Rt. Hon. Sir R. L. Borden, G.C.M.G., etc._]
+
+
+
+
+INDEX (p. 121)
+
+
+_(The Arabic figures refer to the pages of the Text;
+the Roman figures to the Plates.)_
+
+
+Adam, George, 100, 108, 112, 113, 116.
+Aikman, Captain T. T., 12, 55.
+_Albert_, 20, 37, 40, 79, 80, 86; XXXVII.
+Allenby, General Lord, 120
+_Amiens_, 16 ff., 40 ff., 59, 70, 71, 76, 79, 82, 92, 96; XXXV, XL.
+_Ancre, Valley of the_, 38.
+Antoine of Bourbon (Prince), 65.
+_Armentieres_, 31.
+Arnavon, M., 118.
+_Aveluy_, 39.
+
+
+_Bailleul_, 33, 95.
+Balfour, A. J., 100, 105, 119; XLV.
+_Bapaume_, 20, 70.
+_Bapaume Road_, 18, 48; II.
+Baring, Maurice, 19, 29 ff., 50, 69.
+Barnes, G. N., 109; XCII.
+_Bazentin-le-Grand_, 20.
+_Bazentin-le-Petit_, 20.
+Beatty, Admiral Lord, 107; LXXXIX.
+_Beaumont-Hamel_, 20, 23, 48.
+Beaverbrook, Lord, 42, 67, 70, 95.
+Bedelo, Signor, 56.
+Belfield, Colonel, 45, 56.
+Bell, Dr., 118.
+_Bertangles_, 80, 81.
+Birdwood, General, 19; LIII.
+Bloomfield, Major, 50 ff., 86.
+Borden, Sir Robert, 106; XCVI.
+Botha, General Louis, 102; XLIV.
+_Boulogne_, 12, 31, 42, 57, 67, 71.
+Brickman, Captain, 56.
+Brooks, Lieutenant, 99.
+Buchan, Colonel John, 20.
+Burstall, General, 49; LXXI.
+
+
+_Cambrai_, 61.
+Carstairs, Carroll, 46, 61, 87.
+Carton de Wiart, General, 110; XCIV.
+_Cassel_, 31 ff., 42 ff., 51 ff., 93; XI, XII, LX, LXXIV.
+_Caudry_, 90.
+Charteris, General, 14.
+_Chateau Thierry_, 70, 76.
+Clark, Lieutenant, 38.
+Clemenceau, M., 76, 100, 103, 110, 118; LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII.
+_Clermont_, 55.
+_Corbie_, 37.
+_Cough-drop, the_, 20, 48.
+Courage, Ernest, 45, 56, 64.
+_Courcelette_, 20; LII.
+Cowans, General Sir J. S., 99; XLII.
+Currie, General, 49, 67.
+
+
+Da Costa, Senhor, 106.
+Dark, Sidney, 100.
+Davids, Lieutenant A. P. Rhys, 50; XX.
+Davidson, General Sir John, 63, 72, 120.
+Derby, Lord, 109, 112, 120; L.
+_Dieppe_, 35.
+Dillon, Dr. E. J., 105.
+_Douai_, 91; XXXVIII.
+Douglas, Captain, 75.
+_Doullens_, 96.
+Du Cane, General Sir J., 77.
+Dunraven, Lord, 116.
+
+
+Elles, General, 62; LXXVII.
+Ellis, Admiral Heaton, 108.
+_Estre Blanche_, 50.
+
+
+Fane, Major F., 17, 25.
+Feisul, Emir, 105; LXXXVII.
+Fletcher, Colonel, 28, 63, 72.
+Foch, Marshal, 76 ff.; XXXIII.
+Forsyth, Dudley, 75.
+Freeman, Colonel, 29.
+French, Field-Marshal Lord, 31.
+
+
+George, Mr. D. Lloyd, 100, 101, 103, 118; LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII.
+Gibbs, Sir Philip, 32.
+Glyn, Mrs., 115.
+_Grandcourt_, 20.
+Grant, General, 77, 79.
+Gregory, Robert, 30.
+_Grevillers_, 19; LIII.
+
+
+Haig, Field-Marshal Earl, 27, 50, 64, 72, 97, 120; I.
+Hale, Captain, 18, 56, 64; XXVI.
+Hankey, Sir Maurice, 113.
+_Hesdin_, 13, 42, 63.
+_Highwood_, 20.
+Hogg, Major, 56.
+Hoidge, Captain, 50, 51, 86; XXI.
+Holland, Captain, 76.
+Hotblack, Major, 62.
+House, Colonel, 104; LXXXV.
+Hughes, W. M., 110; XCIII.
+Hymans, M. Paul, 110; XCV.
+
+
+Inge, Captain, 56, 64.
+Inverforth, Lord, 55.
+
+
+Jackson, Lieut.-Colonel Stroud, 100, 119.
+Joffroy, M., 39.
+
+
+Knox, Gordon, 100.
+
+
+_La Boisselle_, 20, 40, 48, 70; III, XIV, XVIII.
+Laboreur, M., 26.
+Lansing, Mr. R., 104, 118; LXXXVI.
+Lee, Major A. N., 67, 69, 72, 75; XXXII.
+_Le Havre_, 35, 47.
+_Le Sars_, 19, 49.
+Lipsett, Major-General, 49; LXXII.
+Little, Captain, 30.
+_Locre_, 95.
+Lucas, Lord, 29.
+
+
+MacColl, Captain, 62.
+McCudden, Major, 53, 69; XXX.
+McDonnell, Colonel Angus, 90, 98.
+MacDonough, General, 69.
+MacDowell, Colonel, 56.
+Macintosh, Mr., 64.
+Mahon, Major-General Sir Bryan, 93.
+Mair, George, 100, 112, 116, 119.
+Maratray, M. R. D. de, 18, 44; LXIX.
+Masefield, John, 40, 41.
+Massey, W. F., 108; XC.
+Maude, Captain F., 44 ff., 56, 61, 66, 80, 84, 96, 98; XXXV.
+_Menin Road_, 95.
+_Miraumont_, 20.
+_Monchy_, LXXIII.
+_Montdidier_, 70.
+_Mont St. Eloy_, 29.
+Mueller, Herr, 118.
+Munnings, A. J., 65.
+
+
+_Nieuport_, 31.
+
+
+O'Connor, Major, 49.
+Orlando, Signor, 103.
+Orpen, Captain, 57.
+
+
+Paderewski, 101.
+_Paris_, 49, 55, 70, 98.
+Peace Conference, 98 ff.; LXXXIII.
+Peace Treaty, 116 ff.; LI.
+_Peronne_, 20, 37, 70; V, XV.
+Phillips, Percival, 32.
+Plumer, General Lord, 93 ff.; XXXIX.
+_Pozieres_, 19, 70; IV.
+
+
+Rawlinson, General Lord, 80, 81; XXXVI.
+Read, Mrs., 113.
+Reading, Lord, 105.
+Riddell, Lord, 100, 112, 115; XLIX.
+Riviere, Captain, 98.
+Robertson, General Sir William, 120.
+_Roeux_, 28.
+Rogers, General, 80.
+_Rollencourt_, 13, 21.
+_Rouen_, 35.
+
+
+Sackville-West, General, 107.
+_St. Denis_, 79; XXXIV.
+_St. Omer_, 31, 57.
+_St. Pol_, 26, 67.
+_St. Quentin_, 90.
+_St. Valery-sur-Somme_, 72, 75.
+Sargent, John, 16.
+Sassoon, Sir Philip, 27, 35, 51, 63.
+Seely, General, 65, 67; XXVIII.
+Siongi, Marquis, 100, 108; XLVII.
+Smuts, General J. C., 108; XCI.
+_Soissons_, 70, 76.
+_Somme, the_, 16 ff.
+Stevens, Captain, 98.
+Strang, Ian, 67.
+Stuart, General, 90.
+Sykes, General, 106.
+
+
+_Thiepval_, 20, 36 ff.; LXV, LXVI, LXVII.
+Thomas, Beach, 32.
+Trafford, Captain Rudolf de, 64, 72.
+Trenchard, Air-Marshal Sir H. M., 29, 50, 52; IX.
+Tyl, Colonel du, 80; XXXV.
+
+
+_Vaux_, 79.
+Venezelos, M. E., 105; LXXXVIII.
+_Villers-Bretonneux_, 70, 76.
+_Villers-Carbonelle_, 81.
+
+
+_Warlencourt, Butte de_, 19, 49; XIX, LXX.
+Watson, General, 49.
+Wester Wemyss, Admiral Lord, 104; LXXXIV.
+Weygand, General, 77.
+Williams, Brigadier-General Dame Vaughan, 82.
+Wilson, Field-Marshal Sir Henry, 102, 112; XLIII.
+Wilson, President, 100, 103, 104, 106, 107, 118; XLVI, LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII.
+Woodcock, Colonel, 45, 56.
+
+
+_Ypres Salient_, 31 ff., 95.
+
+
+_Zillebeke_, 89.
+_Zonnebeke_, 95.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's An Onlooker in France 1917-1919, by William Orpen
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